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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26015626">One last Song</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adavago/pseuds/Adavago'>Adavago</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fallout (Video Games), Fallout - Fandom, Fallout 4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, No-Kill Rule, Post-Apocalypse, Slow Burn, Sole Survivor - Song, Song tries to be badass, but he's a dork, desk fans, lots of talking, so is MacCready</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:29:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>44,805</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26015626</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adavago/pseuds/Adavago</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Once he awakes from a 200 year long nap, Iden Venclaire (Male Sole Survivor), decides two things:<br/>1. He would murder the bastard, who killed Nora.<br/>2. He wouldn't kill any other human.</p><p>The wastelands of the Commonwealth quickly question the sanctity of that decision, but Iden rises to the challenge, becoming the legendary figure 'Song'. Through his nearly superhuman ability to conceal himself, along with his fighting prowess, he manages to fight off many a challenge this new world throws at him.</p><p>It is then, that he finds and hires R. J. MacCready, a mercenary sniper, on the run from his old gang. Together, they wrestle with the wastes, each other's haunting past, and the complications of Song's promise, as they become a team (and maybe more?). </p><p> </p><p>Yeah, this is slow burn, and the two of them are absolute dorks. Desk fans will be mentioned, there will be violence, combat, conversation and also feeeeeels. Most of it is going to be told from MacCready's perspective, though Iden/Song will be making an appearance now and then to lend us his POV.<br/>I am diverging from canon quite a bit, though some parts will be recognizable.<br/></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Robert Joseph MacCready/Male Sole Survivor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Crawl out, through the Fallout</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <b>Chapter 1 – Crawl out, through the Fallout</b>
  </p>
</div><i>Iden Venclaire</i><br/>Still shivering, the man crawled towards the capsule, placing his hands on the glass pane. Once, twice, he slammed his fists into it, but it wouldn’t budge. Desperately, he searched for a button, and found it not too far from where he was lying. <br/>The door opened with a hissing noise. There she lay, beautiful face frozen in an icy death, a trickle of red crystal at the side of her head. Softly, the man touched her stiff cheek, tears shimmering in his eyes.<br/>“No. No, no. Not you, anything but you. Darling, angle, why…? Why did they do this?”, he whispered to nobody but himself, his voice echoing in the hallway of cryopods. There was, of course, no response.<p>It might have been hours after he first stirred back to life, it might have been minutes, that he simply sat there, next to her. On the floor, crying. The only sound was an empty, dry sob, that repeated and repeated, the sound of a man broken in despair.<br/>Then, even those sounds ceased, as he stretched out on the cold stone, hazily staring towards the bleak ceiling. He was quiet, but anyone who might have saw him could have seen the thoughts flashing rapidly behind those green eyes. Brows furrowed, with tear-stained face, the man slowly came to a conclusion, that settled in his mind like a spiderweb, slowly encasing everything else.<br/>“I’ll kill him. I’ll fucking murder him. I will find him, I will <i>hunt him down</i> and kill him.”<br/>Suddenly, there was a loud growl, and the man smiled a sad smile. He would have to find something to eat first.</p><p>The first skeleton that he came across was a surprise, but his features betrayed nothing. Carefully, he searched the room, and his eyes settled on the weapon placed on the table. Slender fingers grasped it carefully, as he took it up, eyeing it from all sides. Then, in fluid, practiced motions, the gun’s parts were disconnected from one another, lain out carefully on the table. The entire process took less then 30 seconds. After checking each and every part, the man reassembled the weapon, holding it seemingly careless, but with a firm grip.  <br/>“It’s… not impressive, but you’ll be enough, I think. Let’s get going”, he said, and clicked the weapons safety off.</p><p>The roaches in the hall weren’t a problem. Though visibly surprised, he had enough time to aim carefully and put a bullet in each of the things.<br/>“What the fuck? Giant roaches?”, he swore aloud, moving on. This time, his posture betrayed a still alertness, his shoulders visibly tense.<br/>Another two of the insects died, and then he was alone with a human’s remains and a giant vault door. After scanning the room methodically, the man carefully pulled the device from the arm’s bone.<br/>“A… pip-boy? Oh, this’ll be useful, I think.”<br/>He was strangely beautiful, when he smiled, his teeth flashing in the light that slowly filtered in, as the lift ascended.</p><p>“Wh- No. No, no, no! They… they really…”<br/>The world was dead. The trees, devoid of leaves, the ground itself scarred and scorched. Wrecks of cars everywhere, and from where he stood he could see Sanctuary – or what used to be Sanctuary. A pile of rubble, with nothing remaining.<br/>The world spun in front of his eyes, and he braced himself against one of the crates that were lying around. He had no words. His mouth was agape, as he took in the picture of long forgotten carnage.<br/>His fingers curled to fists, as he watched the display of what the world had come to. The sun was tinting everything a strangely nostalgic orange, the dead trees casting long shadows towards him.</p><p>When a person is faced with a sudden onslaught of despair and misery, there is very little they can do. Either they break and give in to the bleak, grey reality that they found themselves in, or… they don’t. And as the sun vanished behind the mountains, casting the world in darkness, save for the faint green glow of the device on his arm, Iden Venclaire made his choice.<br/>“I… don’t know if there is anybody still out there. I don’t know the first thing about the world, not anymore. But… I think I’ve done enough harm for one life. So… if anybody is listening”, he continued, speaking to a god he was pretty sure had long since abandoned all of them. “...if anybody is listening. I will kill the man who murdered Nora. Apart from that… I won’t kill anybody. I’m done.”<br/>His voice was heavy with the promise he made, as was his heart, as he ventured down from the hill, down towards Sanctuary.</p><p> </p><p>At least Codsworth was still like he had always been, Iden found himself thinking, as he conversed with the butler. No trace of Shaun, unfortunately. It didn’t matter, Iden could be patient. He would find him, sooner or later. First however, it appeared that the world was much more dangerous than he remembered it, and he found himself slightly regretting his hasty promise. In his heart, he knew it was now more needed than ever, that hope would have to prevail in such… harsh conditions, but he wished he wouldn’t have made it so hard on himself.<br/><i>Killing</i>, Iden thought, holding his gun at his side as he made his way to Concord, <i>is much easier than you’d think. Not killing, on the other hand…</i><br/>As if on cue, he heard the gunshots. Slowly, he scanned his surroundings, though he knew they were further away, and sighed.<br/>“I suppose it’s no use delaying it further”, he muttered to himself. “On you go, let’s find out if you’re as good as you think you are…”</p><p>At least four people, all armed with these strange, crude guns, were swarming a building, with a person straight from a history book holding them at bay with a laser rifle. Immediately, Iden slunk back into the shadows, observing the situation carefully.<br/>The guy wouldn’t hold out very long, he had already been injured, judging from the blood on his uniform. Was… was that a minutemen uniform? Iden shook his head, now was not the time to think about that particular weirdness.</p><p>“We’ve got em boys, only a bit more! He’s bleedin’ like a pig already!”, yelled one of the bigger men, who was wearing a metal cage on his head. A helmet?<br/>The rest of them cackled, and went on with their bloody work, while the man on the balcony continued to fire.<br/><i>Fuck it</i>, Iden thought. The man seemed like he needed help, and he was here, so he might as well do something about this poor guy getting massacred.<br/>A raven-haired, lanky man had held himself further away from the happenings, still using his shoddy pistol to try and hit the balcony-man. In order to do this, he’d retreated towards an old truck, that was blocking a good part of the street. Iden wondered briefly, if the man didn’t know how pistols worked. Normally, he’d be amused, but right now… he had a job to do. Silent as a whisper, he made his way from a gap in the houses behind the truck, scanning the vicinity for any other dangers.<br/>The man on the balcony had seen him. Iden noticed the brief flicker in the other’s eyes, but he doubted the attackers had noticed. He directed a short, professional nod towards him, the message clear. <i>Hold out, I’m coming.</i><br/>Iden was now crouching behind the truck, the idiot who still tried to fire at a target far out of range standing nearly next to him.<br/><i>Come on, come on… Just a few steps back…</i>, Iden mentally cheered him on, as he itched ever closer to him.  <br/>With the speed of a striking snake, Iden emerged, the edge of his left hand slamming into the guy’s throat, while he grabbed onto his victim’s shoulder with the right. With one mighty pull, the both of them disappeared behind the truck, the lanky man still coughing, desperately trying to breathe. Quickly, Iden struck again, and the man’s body went limp, his breathing evening out.<i> Good, that’ll put this one out of commission for a while</i>, Iden thought, breathing still as even as it had been the entire time.<br/>Carefully, he picked up the guy’s gun, a weird construction, made from a board, some duct tape and… was that a pipe? No wonder these people had barely hit their target. Iden chuckled briefly, barely believing his luck. These people were severely underequipped.<br/>He popped back up from behind the truck, taking in the situation. Two of the attackers were standing fairly close to each other, the man on the balcony was still mostly unharmed. Everyone was shooting like a madman – or woman, Iden noted, as he noticed the tall, red-haired woman gripping her pistol tightly, as she kept firing at the balcony. <br/>Iden took a deep breath, steeling himself. 3 people. The woman was a good shot, though her gun was inferior. 2 of them were standing next to each other. He took another deep breath, hoping to himself that 200-something years of stasis hadn’t done anything to mess up his training.</p><p>A shot rang out, and the woman’s gun was ripped out of her hand in a hail of splinters, as Iden vaulted over the truck, sprinting towards the two men, one of which whipped around and got a shot in, before Iden could do anything about it. Fierce pain gripped him, as the bullet grazed his side, causing him to give off a low grunt. Then, he was close enough to smash the butt of his 10mm into the guy’s chin, who crumpled to the ground. <br/>The other one finally shook himself out of his stupor and raised his pistol, but Iden smacked it to the ground with his own, as his fist connected with the other’s chest, throwing him backwards. Quickly, he kicked away the gun, and spun around to the woman. <br/>She had drawn a switchblade, glinting wickedly in the setting sun, as she began to advance on Iden. With a quick step, he invaded her personal space. As she brought up the knife reflexively, he slapped the back end of it’s handle, causing it to clatter to the ground. With one swift knee to the stomach, she was reeling back, giving of sounds of pain. Again, Iden brought down the butt of his gun onto her head, and watched her slump to the ground. <br/>Suddenly, he heard the mechanical sound of a gun, and threw himself aside, just as a shot rung out into the night. Quickly, he turned around, just in time to see the guy he’d disarmed had gotten his gun back quicker than anticipated and was now taking shots from nearly point-blank range. <br/>“Hey, troublemaker! Up here!”, a voice suddenly called out, and a bolt of light narrowly missed the gunman, who glanced briefly at the shooter on the balcony. As he turned his attention back to Iden, he gave of a pained yell, as Iden’s gun smashed into his face, possibly braking his nose. Iden, who had thrown the gun as soon as a distraction presented itself, quickly jogged up to the guy, who was now holding his bloodied nose, and kicked him in the head. He went down like the others. </p><p>“Run out of ammo?”, the man from the balcony suddenly called out. “Take that laser rifle over there and get up here! There’s more of them.” <br/>“No, I didn’t, actually”, Iden answered, quickly flashing the full magazine at him. <br/>“You… why didn’t you shoot them, then? Do you have a death-wish?”, the man asked, clearly confused. <br/>“Good question, buddy, but I don’t think so. Not yet anyway. I just like to make things difficult for myself, I guess”, Iden sighed. Then, he looked up and the guy again. <br/>“Judging by the gunfire, there are more inside?” <br/>“Yeah, a whole lot of them, actually. Are you gonna give us a hand or not?” <br/>“Sure”, Iden grinned. “Just make a lot of noise, yeah? I’m far more effective inside than I am outside, anyway.” <br/>Then, he collected the blade from the ground and slipped it in his pocket. The pistols, he broke, except for the laser rifle, which he slung over his back. Then, he went inside. </p><p>The museum of freedom in Concord was a big building and it had been half destroyed even before people decided to have shootouts in it. As such, there were many piles of rubble, pieces of wood, collapsed wall, as well as narrow corridors. Good. More places to hide.<br/>Iden felt the familiar rush of adrenaline move through his veins, as he entered the building, the gunshots now louder than ever. He pulled out his pip-boy, and tuned into a radio station, music started blaring. <br/>“Crawl out, through the Fallout…”, the radio sang, as Iden gently put the pip-boy down onto the ground, then raised the volume. The song filled the entire house, and for a second, the gunfire stopped, confused voices could be heard. <br/><i> Yeah, that’s fitting</i>, Iden thought, as he walked away, knife in hand, his gun holstered, a smile on his face. His footsteps were completely silent, and the song distracted from any other noises. </p><p><i>R. J. MacCready</i><br/>Steady. Slow and steady. The scope lined up perfectly, the gun held steady, MacCready was lying on his belly, in the dirt. There had been a commotion, a few minutes ago and a commotion was nearly never a good thing. So, throwing himself in the dirt and waiting for something to show up, it was.<br/>There was Barnes, which meant that Winlock wouldn’t be far. Another gunner was standing there, pipe rifle at the ready.<br/>MacCready chuckled at that. <i>Pipe rifles</i>, he thought. Too unreliable, you couldn’t hit sh… stuff with that. But still, no attacker could be seen, no matter how hard he looked. The others were now discussing something animatedly, gesturing and being obnoxiously loud. Didn’t these idiots know you could see them?</p><p>They had been on an ‘errand run’, as they called it, and were just traveling back to Mass Pike, when it happened. From nowhere, two of their comrades had fallen face-first into the dirt, with no gunshot to be heard. He didn’t bother checking their bodies, though one of them did have a stimpack left, if he recalled correctly… It didn’t matter right now. First, they had to deal with this bul… situation. Still, he couldn’t find an attacker.<br/>Suddenly, the third gunner crumpled to the ground. Barnes and Winlock threw themselves behind a large piece of concrete, Barnes drawing his laser pistol, as Winlock pulled out his machete, as well as his own laser pistole. They’d left the power armor at the base, not wanting to waste the fusion core for what they all thought was only an easy mission. Despite the situation, the sniper grinned a dirty grin. <i>Bet they’re regretting that now, huh?</i></p><p>Finally, there was a flash of movement, and he scrambled to realign his rifle, as a dark figure dropped from the roof like a fu- stupid superhero, and landed right between the two gunners. They delivered a swift blow to Barnes’ head, who immediately went slack, and whirled around, only to be blocked by Winlock’s machete. The guy must’ve used iron knuckles or something, because otherwise his hand would be shredded sometime right about now.<br/>Following the fight through his scope, MacCready failed to get a good aim, as the two combatants exchanged blow after blow, Winlock in a panicked haze – he’d never been very good in hand-to-hand combat – and the stranger with precise, swift movements. It was plainly obvious how this fight was going to end.<br/>MacCready suddenly wavered in his aim, as thoughts began to race through his mind. He’d been meaning to leave for weeks now, and this – this was the perfect opportunity! They’d probably just assume he was dead, and he’d be gone before the stranger even noticed he was there. A smile broke out over his face, as he gripped the rifle.</p><p>Suddenly, there was a crunch, as the stranger’s fist connected with Winlock’s chest. The bigger man tumbled backwards, and stumbled over the concrete, falling to his ass. The stranger slowly moved around the obstacle, just as Winlock finally had enough room to raise his laser pistol. A shot loosed from the gun, and the stranger barely managed to evade the blast, as it slammed into a fallen tree next to him, immediately setting fire to it.<br/>Winlock tried to take aim for the second shot, but in an honest-to-god martial arts kick, the stranger spun around, knocking the weapon out of his hand. Before the other had a chance to react, the iron knuckles smashed into his chin, and Winlock slumped fully to the ground.<br/>The stranger took a few deep breaths and then searched the body.<br/><i>You take your time, I didn’t become a sniper by falling asleep every time I had to wait</i>, MacCready thought, once again taking aim. He still wasn’t really sure if he’d even want to take the shot, but he’d like to have the assurance that he could. Sniper’s honor and all that.<br/>Finally, the stranger stood tall, and turned. Illuminated by the burning tree, MacCready could see him properly for the first time since the fight began.</p><p>The stranger was most probably a man, wearing a godda- a freaking suit. Black, with a white shirt and a blue tie. Short, golden strands of hair poked out from underneath the dark fedora, the same color as his carefully trimmed pointy beard. But that wasn’t what distracted MacCready so much that he couldn’t have taken a shot, even if he’d wanted to, even if it was very rare to see someone so… clean in the Commonwealth.<br/>It was the fact that this man was absolutely <i>gorgeous</i>. Lean, but still muscular, a bag in his left hand and ...was that a pip-boy?… strapped to his left arm, this man was handsome. MacCready had seen his fair share of people in his short life, but none of them would come to mind when he thought about the word handsome. Lucy was beautiful, in an eerie, unreal way, always too perfect for the world she’d lived in, but this guy… he was the center of a tornado, calm and powerful, awe inducing and just… really fuck- freaking beautiful.</p><p>MacCready shook his head, trying to get rid of this ridiculous train of thoughts. So what? What if the guy was a looker, he was still really dangerous, from what he’d seen. Refocusing, MacCready took another look through his scope – and froze.<br/>Grey eyes were looking directly at him, and despite his mind screaming that this wasn’t possible – he was hiding in a crickin’ mutfruit bush, for pete’s sake – he was sure the man could see him.<br/>Now, MacCready hadn’t survived all these years by paying attention to his mind. He made a lot – a lot – of mistakes, but he had always trusted his instinct. The only time he didn’t, was when he joined the gunners to get the money for… when he joined the gunners, anyway. And look how that turned out. Right now, his instinct was <i>screaming</i> at him to get away, so he didn’t hesitate. He took his rifle, and bolted right out of there, uncaring for anything or anyone that could see him. This guy… was dangerous.</p><p> </p><p>It was only weeks later, that the first rumors cropped up. Only a few at first, but more and more as time went on. Rumors of an impossible figure, a man like a legend, another boogeyman of the commonwealth. Rumors of raider camps being taken down with not a single life taken, about Deathclaws and Supermutants alike falling at the hand of this person. ‘Song’, they called him. MacCready didn’t know why, maybe he’d given himself the name? Anyway, it wasn’t his concern.<br/>What very much was his concern, was the fact that this dude didn’t kill, which MacCready thought was ridiculous, by the way. It meant, that Barnes and Winlock were still very much alive, and probably wondering where the… where he was. So, he decided to lay low in the only place that he could lay low in – Goodneighbor, everyone’s favourite dumpster. <br/>It was either that, or some shack in the woods, getting bit by insects and shot at by mutants. Tough choice, but Goodneighbor had potential clients, so in the end…  <br/><i>At least it would have clients…</i>, MacCready thought sourly, as the lady in front of him visibly paled. <br/>“Oh, so you’re… Oh dear. I wasn’t aware of your… affiliation… with the gunners…”, she said, slowly getting ready to leave. <br/>“<i>Former</i> affiliatio- God da… dang it”, he sighed, as she rushed out of the room. <br/>Ever since he left them and they found out he was still alive, the gunners had made getting clients nearly impossible. Something about the Commonwealth being ‘their territory’. <br/>MacCready snorted. Yeah, sure. The only ones who owned the Commonwealth were the radiation, and the institute, maybe. If they even existed. <br/>Exhausted, he leaned back and took a drag of his cigarette. He needed to do something about these stupid gunners, or else he wasn’t ever gonna find work again. And no work meant no caps. No caps… He sighed. </p><p>Heavy footsteps came his way. Quickly, he checked. His rifle was in grabbing distance, there was one entrance. If they came in through that, he could pick off the first one and then… hope the second one didn’t shoot him first? <i>Shoot, I don’t like these odds.</i><br/>It was worse than expected. Standing in the doorframe, with a stupid grin, were Winlock and Barnes, looking like they’d just found their favourite snack lying around. MacCready sighed again.<br/>“Can’t say it’s a surprise to find you in a dump like this, MacCready”, Barnes said.<br/>“Didn’t think I’d ever see your ugly mugs again. ”, he said as way of a greeting, casually picking up his rifle. <br/>Winlock held his hands in a supposedly calming gesture. <br/>“Woah, we’re just here to talk. Wouldn’t wanna start a fight with all of Goodneighbor, eh?”, he said, his dirty teeth shining through in a false smile. <br/>“Talk. Yeah, sure. And I’m actually not a mercenary, I’ve decided to become a baker. Now what do you really want?” <br/>“I’m just here to deliver a message.”, Barnes said.<br/>“You have been… a problem. We’re cool with you leaving, you didn’t really do much anyway, from the back where you always hung around-“ <br/>“-yeah, that’s bullcrap and you know it. I’m a pretty good shot, you’ll have to admit”, MacCready interrupted Winlock’s monologue. “Look, if this is about me ‘operating in your territory’, just go straight back again, yeah? I don’t care. You can’t claim the entire dang Commonwealth as your territory, no matter how much you’d like it.” <br/>“The Commonwealth already belongs to the gunners. If you insist on taking jobs in it, we’re gonna have a real problem, MacCready”, Barnes continued, as if he hadn’t been interrupted.<br/>“Look, I ain’t takin’ orders from you… not anymore. So why don’t you take your girlfriend here and…”, suddenly, MacCready trailed off mid-sentence, as another figure entered the small room. <br/>“Aaand? What, can’t find your words, ‘Sniper’?”, Barnes jabbed. </p><p>“Is there… a problem, gents?”, a voice like honey on a rough pavement suddenly spoke up from behind them, a voice that held temptation as much, as it held the promise of danger. Caught off-guard, the both of them turned rapidly, only to find themselves face to face with the suit-clad stranger, that had taken them down by himself, so many months ago. <br/>MacCready, though he was gripping his rifle so hard, his knuckles went white, had to admit, he looked even better up close. The smoke-filled neon lights did nothing to diminish those features, though… he did notice the man was sporting a new scar, right below his lip. <br/>“<i>You!</i>”, Barnes finally spoke out, his voice alight with anger. <br/>The man tipped his hat, a battered, old fedora, and spoke calmly:<br/>“Me. I see you’ve recovered well from our little encounter. Good, good. I’d hate to have made any… lasting impressions. I assure you, it was nothing personal, it’s just… you folx have the bad habit of shooting at anything that isn’t your own little group.” <br/>MacCready felt himself drifting off, as the voice lulled him into a false sense of security. It was nearly… hypnotic, in a way. It whispered into your ear, told you everything was all right, and you wanted nothing more desperately than to believe it. He could see Winlock had already fallen to the man’s… sway.. for the lack of a better word, while Barnes was still fighting. <br/>“Yeah… well you’d better watch out. I won’t start a fight, not in Goodneighbor, but don’t you dare run into us again outside-“ <br/>“Or what? Will you fall to me again?”, the man teased.<br/>“I… No! We’ll shoot you in the head, and use your skull as a drinking glass, you creepy fuck.” <br/>“Well”, MacCready raised his voice: “You can’t really do that, if you’ve already shot him in the head, right?” <br/>The man chuckled to himself, and flashed MacCready a grin, with perfect teeth. What the actual f-fluck? How did this guy grow up in the Commonwealth- scratch that – anywhere and didn’t loose at least one tooth? <br/>“A good point. Anyway, whatever twisted desire you have, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until we meet outside the settlement to do things to me.” He raised an eyebrow at Barnes. “Unless, of course, I’m into it. Though I must say, I don’t really fancy you.” <br/>Barnes opened his mouth, as if to say something, but closed it again. <br/>“We’re going. Come Winlock”, he grunted after a pause. Then, he turned around as if to leave, Winlock at his heels. In the door, he halted, and half turned, as if something just occurred to him.<br/>“You! Suited fuck!” <br/>“That’s me, I presume?”, the man said with a smile.<br/>“Of course it’s you, stop messing around. What’s your name?”<br/>The man’s smile widened, and MacCready couldn’t shake the thought that the entire encounter seemed… not staged, but it sure as hell seemed like this guy was making a show of it. He looked like he was enjoying himself, as he turned around and held his hat in front of his chest, giving a stupid little bow.<br/>“You may call me Song.” </p><p>The room suddenly fell quiet, Magolia’s voice the only thing that could be heard, her song distant. <br/>“…Song”, Barnes whispered. “The… the… fuck. You’re real?” <br/>“As I live and breathe, I’m afraid.” <br/>“You’re Song?”, MacCready asked. “Can you prove it?” <br/>The guy calling himself Song turned around to him and smiled that annoying smile of his.<br/>“I can’t exactly prove it, I’m afraid, but who else would I be?” <br/>“That’s… a good point, actually”, MacCready admitted. Who else would walk around the Commonwealth, dressed like that? Furthermore, he didn’t see a single weapon on him, but who knows what might be in that bag of his. <br/>“Now”, Song said, turning around to the two gunners. “I believe you were just about to go, yes?” <br/>The two turned around and went out without another word. MacCready could’ve sworn that Winlock looked even paler than usual. <br/>Song hadn’t moved from where he stood, still looking at MacCready with that slightly bemused look. MacCready didn’t know why, but for some reason it annoyed him. <br/>“Look pal. If you're preaching about the Atom, or looking for a friend, you've got the wrong guy. If you need a hired gun... then maybe we can talk”, he said, half joking. Why in the world would someone like Song – if he really was Song – need a merc? <br/>“Aww, and here I was thinking we could be buddies. Well, I’m actually looking for a sniper right now, and judging by the way you hold that rifle, you aren’t just using it as a pillow”, Song replied after a few seconds of silent evaluation. <br/>MacCready was pretty sure his face showed his surprise, but he wasn’t about to let a bunch of caps slip through his grasp, just because his employer was a little weird. And, he thought, this guy looked like he had caps. A lot of them. <br/>“Sure, if you’re ready to fork over 250 caps. Up-front, non-negotiable”, he stated, with a lot more confidence, than he actually felt. Sure, he was good, but 250 caps was… a lot of money. <br/>Song looked at him, and grey eyes met blue ones. Tilting his head to the side, just the tiniest bit, he held eye-contact far longer than MacCready was comfortable with. But the good thing about being a sniper was the fact, that his eyes did exactly as he told them to. So, he just stared back.<br/>“250 caps, coming up right now. Glad to have you on board. You are…?”, Song finally said, digging around in his bag, which sounded like it had far more than 250 caps inside of it.” <br/>“The name’s MacCready, R. J. MacCready”, he answered, as he took the caps and stored them away. <br/>“Where are we off to, Boss?”, he asked, raising his rifle.</p><p> </p><p>Later, as he was looking through the scope of his rifle, giving off shot after shot into the big green plague, that were the supermutants, he had a bit of time for reflection. Maybe the middle of a battle wasn’t really the best time to do that, but… so what? Mutants were slow, and even if they were a lot more durable than humans – he grimaced, thinking about all the additional ammo he wasted on them – they weren’t really a threat to him. After all he was currently hidden about a block away, on top of an abandoned building, easily picking them off one by one. <br/>Song was gone, which was a bit worrisome. He’d been there not a second ago, mentioning something about a ‘Preston’ and clearing out some mutees, and then he’d just… disappeared. Must’ve used a stealth boy when MacCready wasn’t looking, the sneaky fu- guy. </p><p>Suddenly, one of the mutants slumped to the ground, a knife sticking out of the back of his head. MacCready grimaced, as he gave off another shot. Apparently the no-kill rule was human-only. He would have to ask about that, eventually. <br/>He glanced back through the scope. As he lined up another shot, he could see Song for the first time since the entire encounter had started, sneaking from one column to the next. The greenie next to him had no idea, though. Damn, this guy was good. <br/>A shot rang, and another mutant died in a spray of blood, as Song knifed the one close to him. Then, he disappeared into the shadows again, and MacCready lost track of him. <br/>Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep <br/>“Sh-dang it!”, MacCready cursed, frantically searching for the suicider, who was coming closer to him, judging by the sound of it. His entire setup didn’t do sh-stuff, when the mutant just blew up the whole house. There! Across the street, a flash of green was streaking towards him, blinking nuke in hand. <i>Fuck</i>, MacCready thought, momentarily too caught up in the situation to censor. He wouldn’t be able to take the shot in time, he realized with a sinking feeling in his gut. <br/>Suddenly, the deafening sound of a gunshot could be heard, and the mutant’s head found itself with a new ventilation system, the body crumpling to the ground. Song peeled himself away from the shadow of the door, the 10mm still in hand. <br/>MacCready raised an eyebrow. Dang, this guy really could shoot. Song raised an eyebrow questioningly. <br/>“Are you okay?”, he mouthed, and MacCready gave a confused thumbs-up, before returning to his duty. It was normal for Song to ask that, right? After all, he’d just paid 250 caps for MacCready’s services. Though he could’ve just taken the money back from his body, and… come to think of it, it was really clear that he hadn’t been hurt. Weird guy. <br/>Out of the corner of his eye, MacCready saw a looming, green shape wielding a large board. Quickly, he spun the gun around, and fired, hitting the mutant square between the eyes, showering Song with sticky blood. Song turned around and took a look at the body, then back at MacCready, flashing a quick thumbs-up himself <br/>MacCready had to admit, they were a dang good team.</p><p>MacCready blinked sheepishly. <br/>“What… am I supposed to do with that?”, he said, and gestured vaguely at the desk fan, that Song had absent-mindedly shoved into his face. Song looked up, apparently confused.<br/>“You’re supposed to… take it?”, he supplied.<br/>“Boss… I’m not the type to get all cocky, but-“ <br/>“You’re not?”, Song interjected, acting shocked. MacCready grinned, despite himself.<br/>“You caught me there. Why the heck to you want me to carry around a fan?” <br/>“OH. Right, sorry. I forgot I didn’t explain that. Codsworth usually just… anyway. Yeah, I need those to build more stuff for the settlements.” <br/>“Settlements?”, MacCready asked.<br/>“Yeah, settlements. The minutemen are establishing those all across the Commonwealth, and as their general, I thought I might as well do my part”, Song finished with a smile, before turning around to loot through the bloodied remains of a supermutant. He still held the desk fan vaguely in MacCready direction, who was still processing.<br/>“Sorry, did you say the minutemen are- wait, <i>general</i>?” <br/>“What? Oh, yeah. I helped them out a few times, and apparently I’m impressive enough that Preston made me general. Though I suspect it was all a ruse to get me to do their bloody work for them”, Song added, with a bemused look, that told MacCready that he didn’t mind all that much. <br/>The merc snorted, and finally took the desk fan. He hadn’t really known Song until a few hours ago, but already he could see just how… song that was. <br/>“So, that means I get to carry around worthless crap, that you somehow help settlements with?”<br/>“Pretty much, yes. Though… I do sell some of it”, he winked, pocketing a gold-plated flip lighter. Then, he threw MacCready a packet of cigarettes. Quickly, he caught them, questioningly looking at Song.<br/>“I saw you smoking, figured you could use these better than I can. I quit… a long time ago.” <br/>“I… thanks, I guess”, MacCready mumbled, unsure of what else to say. This guy was decidedly too… nice. Quickly, he lit up a smoke. <br/>Then, he continued to watch Song rummage around in the ruins of the building they fought the supermutants in. </p><p>“So…”, he finally began, just as Song was arm-deep into a trashcan. “No killing, huh?” <br/>“I know, I know. It’s very batman of me”, was the confusing reply.<br/>“Very what?” <br/>“You know”, Song began to reply. Then, he suddenly stopped, his facial features faltering. “Oh. I guess… I guess you wouldn’t.” <br/>“Ominous much?”, MacCready replied, raising an eyebrow. <br/>“It’s… nothing, just forget it. In case you had not noticed, I’m a bit weird”, Song gave a loopy grin, as MacCready snorted in amusement.<br/>“A bit weird, all right. You do know you’d have a better chance at staying alive with some armor, right?” <br/>“Says the guy wearing nothing but a duster”, Song countered.<br/>“Hey, I ain’t getting into the fray. I’m staying as far away from combat as I possibly can.” <br/>“Fair. But yes, I have considered wearing armor, it’s just…”, Song began, and looked away. Was he… was he blushing?<br/>“What is it, Boss?”, MacCready insisted.<br/>“Fine! I think it looks shit”, Song burst out, now definitely red in the face. <br/>“It… oh”, MacCready said.<br/>After a few seconds of silence, laughter bubbled up from his throat, filling the empty building. It wasn’t cynical, it was… good. A good kind of laughter. <br/>“Oh, can it! Not every one of us can look good regardless of what they’re wearing”, Song said abashedly, to which MacCready gave an incredulous look. Did… did Song just compliment him? Now <i>his</i> face felt hot. <br/>“You… just get back to your weird scavenging, Boss. The sooner we get out of here, the better”, MacCready mumbled. Song took his word for it, and got back to rummaging around, while the sniper kept an eye out for any straggling mutants or other things. <br/>It had felt good to laugh like this, he hadn’t done it in a long time. Not since… not since Lucy. Was he…? No. No, it had just come unexpected, that was all. And Song had a silver tongue, he’ll give him at least that. <br/>This… this thing looked like it could actually be a decent enough score. <br/><i>Yeah, right.</i> Like the gunners wouldn’t come along again and ruin everything. No matter how good Song was, the gunners were just too many. Or maybe he’d ruin it himself, or Song turned out to be a secretly-murdering maniac, or-<br/>“You all right?”, Song’s voice cut through his thoughts, and MacCready spun around. He hadn’t heard him approach, which was… unusual to say the least. <br/>The other man was propped against the wall, his eyes looking over at MacCready with an unreadable expression. Specifically, they were looking at his hands, and as he looked down, MacCready realized he’d gripped the rifle too tightly again, his knuckles once again the colour of snow. Slowly, he released his iron grip, eyes still kept on Song. <br/>“Yeah, I’m… good”, he said. One look at Song was enough to confirm that the other didn’t believe him. For some reason, he still kept quiet about it, just gesturing to go. Thankful, MacCready resumed his duty, scouting for threats, as they made their way towards Diamond City. For once, Song was quiet. </p><p><i>Come on, MacCready, what have you gotten yourself into this time?</i>, he thought, as they moved. Still… there was nothing to do, but wait until the good thing collapsed once again. And it would probably be his fault, let’s be honest here. <br/>Still, that faintest, lingering voice in his mind gave him hope. Maybe it would be different, this once?</p>
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<a name="section0002"><h2>2. A long, long road</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>We've got a bit of tension, a bit of exposition, a bit of fluff... all the good things. MacCready and Song slowly become more familiar with each other, and the first problems rear their ugly heads.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <b>Chapter 2 – A long, long road</b>
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</div><i>MacCready</i><br/>Daisy’s face was priceless, as the old ghoul stared at the strange man sidling up to her shop, her mouth slightly agape and her eyes glinting in suspicion. Briefly, they flickered to MacCready, then back to song, who had now raised his fedora slightly.<br/>“Good evening, madam. I was hoping we could do some trade, unless you’re already closed? I’m afraid we <i>are</i> just the slightest bit late”, he said, flashing that perfect smile of his.<br/>“No. It’s fine. Welcome to Daisy’s Discounts, I’m Daisy. You’re…?”<br/>“Song, pleased to meet you”, he said, doing his little bow. Daisy lit up with a smile, as she turned towards MacCready, who’d been standing on the sidelines so far.<br/>“Damn, where did you find this one, MacCready?”, she exclaimed happily, a twinkle in her eyes. “So polite! That’s a rare quality these days…”<br/>“Don’t tell me you wanna start talking about the good old days again, Daisy”, MacCready teased, but she only wagged her finger at him,<br/>“Now, now, don’t you go around and start calling me old, young man!”<br/>“I’d never do something like that. You’re far too cute to be old, Daisy”, MacCready flirted jokingly, to which she only rolled her eyes. Then, she turned back to Song, who’d been following the entire exchange with obvious interest.<br/>“I’m sorry, dear. I just haven’t seen him in a while. Now, what can I do for you?”, Daisy asked.<br/>“Oh, we were looking to sell some things, actually”, Song said, and began pulling out a random assortment of things from his bag. Pipe guns, boards, a testing tube rack, a bunch of lightbulbs… then he took out a desk fan, but put it back into his bag without an explanation. MacCready rolled his eyes at that, but he doubted Song even noticed. This man had a weird obsession with fans.<p>“That’s quite the assortment, did you rob to a jumble-sale?”, Daisy joked, but MacCready only stared at her in confusion. Song, however, looked up from his pile. <br/>“You… you know what a jumble-sale is?”, he asked. An emotion that MacCready couldn’t quite place seemed to tint his voice a dark grey. Daisy turned her head back to him. <br/>“Oh, sorry. It’s a pre-war thing, where people would get together and sell all their stuff at low prices”, she said, her eyes glinting with that same forgotten nostalgia that always came, when she talked about the olden days, before the war. <br/>“Forgive me madam, I know it’s impolite to ask a lady’s age, but… are you older than the war?”, Song asked, leaning forward in interest. Daisy simply waved her hand, as she answered:<br/>“Fine, you’ve got me. I’m 220, at least that’s what I usually say. Honestly, it’s probably closer to 270, not that anyone is counting”, she admitted. <br/>Song had the strangest reaction to this, looking at her in solemn silence. Now, MacCready hadn’t known him for long, a few days tops, but he knew that silence wasn’t Song’s thing. Chattering, charming, singing even, but not silence. MacCready made a mental note to remember this later, not that it made a whole lot of difference. Song was weird enough all ready, another little thing really didn’t matter. </p>
<p>Song eventually returned to sorting out the pile of trash he had lying in front of him, though he seemed mentally absent. When he finally piped up, his voice was smaller than anything MacCready had heard from him so far.<br/>“Daisy… tell me…”, he began: “Do you know where I could possibly find some pre-war books?” <br/>She seemed a bit taken aback by that request, but then a grin split her face. <br/>“As it so happens, yeah I do, if you’re up for some work, that is.” <br/>“Work?”, MacCready asked. “What kind of work?” <br/>“The shooting kind, of course, MacCready. I wouldn’t hire you for carpentering.” <br/>“Fair enough, I’ve never been good with a hammer and nail anyway”, he replied jokingly. <br/>“Anyway…there’s the old library, a place I used to go to, when I was a kid. I loved reading there, but nowadays it’s crawling with mutants. Makes me sad to see it in that state. You wouldn’t believe it, but I was actually quite the shy kid, books were very dear to me. I sat there nearly every day, reading-“ <br/>“-‘A dream in white’, by Deriah Jesivelle, right?”, Song interrupted her. Her jaw dropped, as she stared at him, mouthing a few nothings, until she could finally get out a sentence. <br/>“That’s… how do you know? Did you hear the story from someone else?”, she demanded, though her eyes were telling a different story, flickering frantically through long gone scraps of memory. Song smiled sadly.<br/>“No, I’m afraid not. Guess you’re not the only one who’s pre-war around these parts anymore, right?” <br/>“You… wait a minute”, she said, her face alit with excitement. “I <i>do</i> remember you! You came over once,  and asked me what I was reading. I think I blabbered about the book for a good half an hour, but you didn’t mind.” <br/>“Yes, that was me.” <br/>There wasn’t really anything else to say, but MacCready suddenly felt like he was intruding. This felt like a private thing, and… he’d just been hired to shoot crap, not to eavesdrop on his employer. So, he dumped his bag next to Song’s, hearing the various junk inside clatter around.<br/>“I’ll leave you two to it, then. Sounds like you’ve some catching up to do. Find me in the third rail once you’re done”, he said, the last part meant for Song. Then, he walked away, though he could feel the other man’s eyes on him, until he rounded the corner. </p>
<p>Later, he was sitting in the smoky bar, sipping on a warm beer, wondering what that was all about. His rifle was at his side, and he’d chosen a place from which he could see any attacker coming, so he was free to think about it for a little, as Magnolia wove her song through the establishment. <br/>Was Song… was Song even older than Daisy? He’d need to be a ghoul for that, and his face was far to pretty for him to be one, though. Maybe… he wasn’t one of those synth things he’d heard about, MacCready was pretty sure they were only built after the war. Then again, some of the things Song did were borderline superhuman, so… it couldn’t be, right? He doubted it. Maybe he’d misunderstood them. Though he liked reading, the Capital Wasteland and the Commonwealth had far too few books, and he was too busy staying alive to pick it up as a hobby. Song, though…<br/>MacCready was pretty sure song had a load of caps, and with the way he fought… he’d have enough time. Maybe he and Daisy had quoted something, and he didn’t recognize it. <br/>Silently, he laughed, feeling silly. Of course Song wasn’t about 300 years old, that would be ridiculous. The guy might be something else, but he wasn’t <i>immortal</i>. Nobody was. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><i>Song</i><br/>He supposed he was more privileged than others, having grown up in a time, where not everything tried to kill you, a time were a bath and coffee were widely available, at least in those parts of the world where he’d spent most of his life. People with his privilege, however, didn’t fit this new world, he thought, as his knife sliced through the mutant’s throat without much of a sound. <br/>His footsteps were quiet, as he moved through the halls of the library, his approach not only naturally silent, but also aided by the cover of darkness, and the blearing of the announcements. Turrets shooting in the distance, protectrons battling mutants… In truth, Song felt that the problem would’ve resolved itself soon enough. Still, he wasn’t too good for a little scam, no matter how he presented himself. <br/>Circling back to his previous thoughts, he wondered if others would have done as well for themselves as he did. Song wasn’t swimming in caps, far from it, but his reputation was nearly legendary. Oftentimes he could resolve a conflict by bringing up his name alone. <br/>Sure, it had been far from easy, his training only helping him in the beginning, but… he was learning the rules of this new game. </p>
<p>Quickly, he crouched behind a doorframe, as a mutant rushed past. With precise, practiced movements, Song pierced the back of his neck before he even new what was coming. <br/><i>Have the rules even changed?</i>, he asked himself, as he wiped the blade clean, keeping an ear open for any more mutants in the area. <br/>The movements were the same, whether they were done to mutants or people. The same sneaking around, the same hammering pulse in his ears, the same caution. And in the end, it was still the same adrenaline that flowed through his veins, with that final strike. <br/>Suddenly, he heard a loud gunshot, somewhere from outside the building. Listening for a second, he was rewarded with another. It sounded like someone was having a field day with their rifle, and Song could give a pretty good guess as to who it was. <br/><i>Some things have changed, I suppose</i>, he thought, smiling to himself. He wasn’t alone anymore. Even if this man was just another mercenary, a gun for hire… it felt good to have someone who could watch his back. </p>
<p>He ducked beneath a low-hanging board, that had come loose from the ceiling, scanning the room for mutants. In the far right corner, Song saw a lumbering green shape, wielding a large laser rifle. The mutant had his back turned to him, firing wildly at something outside the window. MacCready, probably. <br/>As he crept over to make quick work of his foe, he felt the sharp stab of the 10mm’s holster against his hip and grimaced. Maybe it was another one of those pre-war privileges of his, but he couldn’t get used to the shabby equipment he was forced to work with. The pistol did it’s job, all right, but it tried it’s best to keep him from doing his. It always fired slightly to the left of where it should, it took at least 3~4 seconds longer to take it apart and reassemble it again than any gun he’d ever worked with, and Song was sure one of these days it was going to jam. And the worst part of it was, it didn’t even have a silencer. <br/>It was time he found a gun that suited his needs, he resolved, as he killed the mutant, silent as always, briefly glancing outside the window as he did it. A few buildings away, he could spot MacCready, who had been lining up a shot. Song could see him muttering something under his breath, and he didn’t need to hear it, to be sure MacCready was complaining about the stolen kill. Song flashed a smile, and went back to work. </p>
<p><i>MacCready</i><br/>As soon as they’d cleared out the library, MacCready made his way inside to meet Song. It wasn’t until about 10 minutes of searching, that he finally found him, standing in one of the rooms. Song was standing in front of one of the shelves, a book in hand. His expression was somewhere between hurt and sadness. For some reason, MacCready felt as if someone punched him in the gut. Song… Song shouldn’t be looking like this. He was the legend everyone was talking about, the killer without blood on his hands, not… whatever this was. <br/>“Find…”, MacCready began, then he had to clear his throat. “…find anything good?”, he finally asked.<br/>Song turned around and held up the book. It was the one he and Daisy had been talking about, ‘A dream in white’. The cover was still intact, depicting a beautiful sunset. At least that’s what MacCready thought, until he took a closer look. The ‘sun’ was just a bit too white, a bit too blinding. Questioningly, he looked at Song, who nodded.<br/>“A dream in white”, he began to speak, his tone grave. “…is a book about a young girl called Lydia, who grows up to be a scientist, harnessing the power of the atom to do beautiful things, things that made the world a better place. Robots to take care of everyone and everything, medicine that could cure even those whom nothing else could save, technology that was more art than the crude metal that we know today…”<br/>Then, Songs expression darkened, as he continued:<br/>“That is, until someone used her discoveries to create weapons of destruction. I’m… I’m talking about the atom bomb. The most powerful weapon humanity ever had. People came rushing to her left and right, to make bigger, better bombs… and she did it. Others had bombs already, using her work, she reasoned… why not make ones to protect people with?” <br/>“So… what happened?”, MacCready asked, as Song made no notion to continue. A sad chuckle erupted from the other.<br/>“What do you think? They all die. Every. Single. Character. The bombs go off, and then… that’s it”, Song said. <br/>“But… the book was written pre-war, right?”<br/>“Yeah.”<br/>“They… knew? They knew all would go to sh- crap and they still did it?” <br/>“They didn’t care. As long as they could take the enemy with them, they would still press the button.” <br/>MacCready didn’t know what to say. He’d known this already, but… he had the impression Song was trying to tell him something. A test? <br/>This wasn’t just a conversation about a book, or even what the book meant. Song’s eyes were fixed to MacCready’s, trying to convey some hidden meaning. </p>
<p>“Look, Boss, if you’re trying to tell me something here, just come out and say it. I don’t work like that. Either say something, or don’t, no need for all that hiding around crap”, MacCready finally said. Whatever game Song thought he was playing, he picked the wrong partner for it. <br/>Song sighed, but the corners of his lips quirked upwards, in a smile MacCready hadn’t seen before. It was nearly… satisfied? <br/>“I’m… I know you don’t really like this whole… not killing thing.”<br/>“Well, yeah. I’m not saying you need to kill every assh- idiot out there, but if you don’t put down at least some of them, they’re just gonna hound you until one of you is dead. It doesn’t make sense, Boss.” <br/>“That’s the point. I’m done with making sense, I-“ <br/>“-well, then you can cross at least one thing from your bucket list”, MacCready interrupted with a light chuckle, which got Song to break out in an actual smile. <br/>“Goddamn it, MacCready, I’m trying to be serious here”, he said.<br/>“And I appreciate it, I really do. But maybe let’s not be all mushy with each other until we find a place that’s less… open?”, MacCready suggested, gesturing towards the large windows. Song glanced around, and nodded. <br/>“Let’s go, then. I think we can make it to Diamond City before nightfall, if we’re fast enough.” <br/>“Lead the way”, MacCready smiled, taking up his rifle once again. Then, he followed Song out of the building. He did notice, that his boss had taken the book with him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Later, they were sitting in the Dugout Inn, drinking something that could be charitably described as ‘beer’, provided MacCready got a hell of a lot drunker than he already was. He almost never got drunk, since he couldn’t just bash harder to make up for less focus. If he’d be involved in combat, his aim had to be true and steady, which was… really hard, when you’re drunk enough to sway as you walked. <br/>Song had also had a few bottles, but he seemed to either know his limits very well, or he couldn’t stand the taste of the swirl the Bubrovs served, since he stopped after his third one. Either way, it wasn’t fair, since MacCready was drunk, and Song was decidedly not. <br/>“Come on, you can let go for a sec, can’t you? This isn’t Goodneighbor, nobody’s gonna stab you”, MacCready slurred, leaning across the table to where Song was sitting on the couch. The other simply smiled and shook his head. MacCready threw himself back into his chair.<br/>“You’re no fair”, he muttered. <br/>“Because I don’t drink as much?”, Song asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement. <br/>“Sure. Alssso, because you’re like, super sneaky. You just kinda appear, y’know? How’s that any fair?”, MacCready demanded to know.<br/>“I… Are you upset because I’m <i>good at my job</i>?”, Song asked incredulously, to which MacCready crossed his arms. He wasn’t sure if he was pouting or not, but he might be.<br/>“Yeah.”<br/>“You are unbelieve, you know that Creeds?”, Song said, shaking his head. <br/>“What’d you just call me?”, MacCready asked confusedly. Was that the light, or was Song getting a red in the face?<br/>“I- Creeds. I called you Creeds”, he finally said. “Don’t… do you not like it?” <br/>“No, no, ‘s fine. It’s just… wow, I haven’t had anybody call me anything but my name for… ages.” <br/>“You haven’t?” <br/>“No, not since… not since Lucy. I never told-“ <br/>Suddenly, Song shot forward, pressing his hand over MacCready’s mouth, faster than he could react. Even drunk, that wasn’t an easy task, and quite a few people in the bar tensed up. Song stared MacCready dead in the eye, as he said:<br/>“You… you might want to tell me this when you’re sober… if you still want to talk about it, that is”, he said, his voice heavy. Slowly, MacCready nodded. Then, he took Song’s hand by the wrist and removed it from his face. <br/>After an awkward silence, in which the inn’s patrons began to relax again, MacCready spoke out:<br/>“Man, you… you’re just so fucking -ah shi- crap. I mean you’re just so stupid nice, you know that? I don’t think anybody’d care if I spilled my guts right here, right now. Anyone but you.”<br/>“Well, speaking of spilling your guts… we might want to get you to bed. You are going to hate me for not also stopping you from drinking this piss, once you manage to get up tomorrow”, Song said. He wasn’t looking at MacCready, but slightly to the left. Even with the weird lightning, he was definitely blushing now, MacCready was sure of it. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Please, just kill me right here”, MacCready groaned to nobody in particular, as his head pushed it’s vendetta against him to new heights. The continuous pounding was enough to send any coherent thought spiraling, though he was vaguely aware that he had to be somewhere in Diamond City. <br/>Opening his eyes just a tiny bit, MacCready was thankful to find that there was no light at all, but the tiny bit that crept through under the door. It was barely enough to illuminate the room, and didn’t hurt <i>as</i> much. <br/>Next to the bed was a small chair, and he could see something was on it. Rolling over, he grabbed the cylindrical object, and brought it closer to his eyes, still squinting. <br/>M-e-d-X, it read. There was no note beside it, or anything, but MacCready could make a pretty solid guess as to who had left the half-full syringe there. <i>Song you beautiful bastard</i>, he thought, as he took the medication. The pain ebbed of to a low, nearly pleasant hum, as it did it’s work. <br/>Looking around, he couldn’t find Song anywhere in the room. Shrugging, he figured the other must’ve already went out and about, without leaving any instructions for MacCready. Which, in his book, meant he was fine to do whatever he wanted, until the boss gave him new orders. <br/>And right now, the bed was looking really, really comfortable. MacCready didn’t get to sleep in, a lot. He couldn’t remember the last time he did, but it hadn’t been in Goodneighbor, and it certainly hadn’t been with the gunners. <br/><i>Fu-Crap. The gunners.</i>, he thought, as they crossed his mind for the first time in… a while, actually. Somehow, Song had managed to distract him completely from the fact that he was doing what they explicitly told him not to do. Taking jobs in the Commonwealth, running and gunning like there was no tomorrow. <br/>MacCready slumped back, his head on the pillow, as he groaned in frustration. He needed to deal with them, or else he’d never have enough caps to get the proper equipment to go and fine the damn cure. Not to mention he probably wouldn’t even get close to the building in which he thought it was, not if the gunners interfered. And that wasn’t even taking the dozens of ferals into account. <br/>Suddenly, MacCready felt too small. He didn’t even know where to begin solving all his problems, and now he’d dragged Song into it as well. Without him, they’d never catch him, not with his skill at sneaking around. He had to face it, he was a liability. Honestly, he didn’t even know why Song bothered keeping him around. Yeah, he was a good shot, but that Song could’ve easily done all the shi-stuff the two of them had done together alone. </p>
<p>The creaking of the door interrupted his thoughts, and he had his rifle in his hands, before he even realized what he was seeing. In the doorframe, calmly standing there like he had all the time in the world, was Song. His hair was damp, and he had a towel around his waist. That was it. <br/>MacCready wanted to tear his eyes away, but for some reason he couldn’t. His boss was… uhm… he was hot, all right.<br/>“I…You…The…Umm…You’re…”, he stammered, as he felt his face heat up. Song raised an eyebrow and carefully closed the door.<br/>“Shhh… Use your words, Creeds. What are you trying to say?”<br/>“You…you’re naked”, MacCready finally said, immediately feeling stupid.<br/>“Yes? It’s called a shower. I took one” Song said, clearly amused. <br/>“Oh. Yeah, that… that makes sense. I, uh, I need to go… to the bath…room”, MacCready stammered once again, before making a hasty exit. </p>
<p>The only people in the inn were two diamond city residents MacCready didn’t recognize, as well as one he very much did recognize: Leaning leisurely against the counter, wearing that red coat of hers, was Piper Wright, head and (only) reporter of Publick Occurrences. She was frantically waving at him, and MacCready sighed, hoping she hadn’t witnessed… whatever just happened. <br/>“Hey there, MacCready. What brings you to Diamond City?”, she asked curiously, as he approached.<br/>“Oh, you know. Work, mostly. I see you’re still driving McDonough up the walls?” <br/>“I’ve got to do my job, right?”, she replied cockily.<br/>“Judging by the way you’ve got everyone stirred up, you’ve been doing one hell of a job, all right”, he said, sitting down next to her. Briefly, he eyed the bottles on the counter, but his head still hadn’t completely recovered from last night. That, and Song would probably get them both into an absurdly dangerous situation before noon, so… he needed his aim. <br/>Piper sidled up to him, and conspiratorially whispered:<br/>“So, you have any luck with jobs so far? Diamond City’s been dull after you left. Not one pissed-off gunner on the streets.”<br/>“Yeah, I found someone. He’s weird as heck, but… he pays well”, MacCready answered, still waiting for the other shoe to drop. He was pretty sure Piper already knew who he was here with, even if she didn’t witness Song going into their room nearly naked. <br/>“Oh, really? So, what’s it like, traveling with the famous ‘Song’? And why are you in Diamond City, anything interesting that I should know about?", she asked, eyes glinting. MacCready sighed.<br/>“Piper, I already told you, I don’t do any interviews. If you wanna know, ask him yourself”, he said. Piper sighed and crossed her arms.<br/>“You know what? Maybe I will. It’s not like he’d kill me, huh?”, she joked. </p>
<p>While they waited for Song to emerge – the guy was taking his sweet time getting ready – MacCready was racking his brain on what had happened yesterday. He wasn’t really that sure anymore, but he felt like he’d wanted to say something important. And Song stopped him, that part he remembered clearly. Had he been talking about Lucy? Duncan, maybe? He didn’t remember, and cursed himself for it. <br/>Suddenly, he heard Song’s voice behind him. In his defense, he was getting more and more used to the other just sneaking up on him, so he jumped only the tiniest bit. Still, it was enough to send Piper into a laughing fit, despite her having almost the same reaction. Song simply stood there, and waited, until she got her bearings back. <br/>“Ah, Piper”, Song then said. “It’s good to see you again. Tell me, did you…?” <br/>Suddenly solemn again, she shook her head. <br/>“No, Blue, I didn’t. Sorry, but I have no clue where he is. I’ve been trying to ask his secretary and everything, but she just keeps insisting that I should ‘put my nose where it belongs’. Stupid cow, I’m actually trying to help her”, Piper lamented, sending an apologetic look at Song, who’s face had fallen just a bit. MacCready doubted she had noticed, but he’d spent a bit of time around Song, and was beginning to learn the difference between a happy Song and a… sad? Disappointed? Whatever, a Song with another emotion than happy. <br/>“Umm… can I ask what’s going on?”, MacCready asked. They were searching for someone? <br/>“Piper and I have been looking for someone, whom I thought might help me solve a…personal… issue. Do you know Nick Valentine?” Song was looking a bit guilty now, but MacCready couldn’t figure out why. <br/>“Nah, not personally. Look whatever you do, it’s your business, but tell me if we’re about to get gunned down by any people hunting you or something like that?”, MacCready asked. <br/>He understood personal baggage, he definitely did. It’s just, he would like to be at least a little bit prepared… also he had no idea what kind of ‘personal issue’ Song could have. Someone like him was bound to have…pissed off the brotherhood, or stolen an entire Deathclaw colony’s eggs, or something like that. <br/>Song smiled at him.<br/>“Sure, will do. Would you like a 5 minute warning, or is 3 enough?”, he joked. <br/>“What do you think?”, MacCready said, raising an eyebrow in challenge. Then, he shot an irritated look at Piper, who’d broken out into a frighteningly large, sh- crap-eating grin. She only smiled at him in fake innocence, making the kinda face she made when she knew something MacCready didn’t. </p>
<p>“So… do the two of you know each other?”, Song asked, after watching them having their silent exchange. It was amazing how often Song could just… disappear from everyone’s mental radar, if he wanted to.<br/>“Kinda”, he answered. <br/>“He was in Diamond City before, looking for a job or something, when a few gunners came after him. Diamond City Security wasn’t doing shit, as always, so I helped him out”, Piper clarified. <br/>“She’s real scary, when she threatens to ruin your reputation in the entire Commonwealth, until you go away. You should’ve seen it, Boss, it was amazing”, MacCready said. <br/>“Oh, I’m well aware”, said Song, before turning back to Piper. “Anyway, darling, I’m going to be out of town for a while. Could you send a message to Sanctuary and Goodneighbor, should you find him? I really need his help.” <br/>Piper saluted with two fingers. Then, she downed her drink, and went outside without another word. MacCready could see the gears in her head already turning again, ready to churn out another article. </p>
<p>“This woman is… quite something, all right”, Song said, sitting himself down next to MacCready. Then, he ordered a beer, ignoring the mercenaries incredulous look. <br/>“How can you drink already? Didn’t you have enough yesterday?” <br/>“I believe you’re confusing me with you, Creeds”, Song chuckled, before taking a sip. <br/>There it was again, that strange nickname. MacCready stood by what he’d said, though. It didn’t sound weird, it sounded… kind of nice, actually. <br/>“Oh, shut it, Boss. It’s not my fault your liver fricking steel”, he finally shot back, without much malice in his voice. Song laughed, as he finished his drink. Then, he took a look around. <br/>The other guests were hanging out in different parts of the room, the two of them had the bar for themselves. Even the bartender, with his whacky stories was nowhere to be seen. Only Scarlet was sweeping the floor, a bit to the left of them. <br/>Song set down the bottle, and looked at MacCready. <br/>“How much… how much of last night do you remember?”, he finally asked, all playfulness gone from his voice. Instead, he sounded almost… concerned? <br/>“I don’t… not much, but if this is about what I said to you, just-“, MacCready began, but Song held up his hand in a calming gesture, looking him directly in the eye.<br/>“Look. Whatever you said, you don’t owe me anything but what I paid for. If you decided to tell me anything, I… I’d be honored, but don’t feel like you need to do this, okay?”, he said. <br/>MacCready had to look away. There he was again, Song, with his… stupid consideration. Why was he being so nice? Was he being genuine, or was it all some kind of elaborate trap? To do… what exactly? Make him cry? <br/><i>Well, if that’s the goal, then it might be working, if he goes on like that.</i><br/>It wasn’t even like he didn’t want to tell him about Lucy, hel-heck, even about Duncan. It was just he… he was afraid of what would happen. Right now, right now was save. Song didn’t know anything, he wasn’t close to MacCready. If he got… Suddenly, he saw the scene that haunted his nightmares, and had accompanied him many, many times. The writhing mass of bodies, the screeching, the… the <i>ripping</i>, until the screams finally stopped. The weight in his arms. Each step, each adrenaline-fueled, numb step, getting him closer to the exit… <br/>MacCready shuddered. Song was still looking at him, with worry clearly displayed on his face. </p>
<p>“I… I can’t. Not now, not yet. Maybe some day, but… not now”, MacCready finally said. Song nodded in understanding, but he didn’t go away. The two of them simply sat there, while MacCready pulled himself back together, until he felt like his voice wasn’t going to break once he started talking. <br/>“You’ve seen the gunners. It… it’s not like I don’t want to tell you, weird as it is. It’s that, if they get wind of what I’d tell you, I’d be fu-done for. This isn’t safe.” <br/>“You don’t need to apologize. It’s your choice, what to say and when to say it”, Song said.<br/>“…thank you. Not a lot of people would give me that choice, if they had the chance.” <br/>“Well”, Song grinned. “I’m not like most people, I hope?” <br/>MacCready looked up, and couldn’t help but flash a smile back. The hypnotic effect of Song’s voice wasn’t really there anymore, once you’d heard him talking for a while, but his smiles were… infectious. </p>
<p>“Speaking of”, Song continued, casting a quick glance around. Then, he leaned in, and whispered:<br/>“I might have a solution to your gunner problem, if you’re interested?” <br/>“If I’m interested? Heck yeah, I’m interested”, MacCready spluttered, a little bit overwhelmed. Was there nothing this man couldn’t pull off? Well, except for a proper kill, but - <i> wait</i>.<br/>“I thought you weren’t in the business for a kill, much less for an entire bunch of gunners, Boss?” <br/>“Oh, I’m not”, Song quickly assured.<br/>“Then… how do you want to get rid of them? You’ve taken them down once, they’ll just come back”, MacCready said, defeated. It had been to good to be true, after all.<br/>“I don’t think I need to kill them.” <br/>“Sorry to disappoint, but these guys hold a grudge. Even if you somehow manage to take out the entire lot of them, they’ll just send reinforcements, once the people wake up from the beating you gave them. Unless, you wanna let them sleep forever?”, he asked jokingly. <br/>Song seemed to wince a tiny bit at those words, though MacCready couldn’t figure out why. <br/>“No, I don’t. I do have an idea, though. Sometime, a kill isn’t even the best way to deal with the situation. There is an… array of things you can do, none of which involve murder. <br/>No, what I had in mind was a bit more… sophisticated. And a lot more daring”, he said, grinning wickedly. He turned to MacCready, who immediately knew he was going to give Song anything he wanted. <i> Oh crap</i>. This look was nothing but trouble.<br/>“What do you say, do you want to take a little trip to Sanctuary, Creeds? I’ve got something up there, which might just come in handy”, Song said, eyes still glinting in the lights of the inn.<br/>“Sure. Just lead the way, Boss”, MacCready said, a little too quickly.</p>
<p>The wind had picked up over night, and it brought the foul smell of rotten flesh, mingled with the phantom sent of radiation, that unnoticeable decay, with it. Traveling through the Commonwealth was almost never a nice experience, and this trip was no difference. <br/>One thing MacCready noticed, was that his Boss did his best to avoid water, or mud. Thinking back on the reason why he wasn’t wearing armor, but a suit, MacCready smiled. It seemed someone was just a little bit vain. <br/>As far as character flaws go, that was a good one to have, he mused. He had never given a crap about how he looked, always more intent on surviving, rather then looking good, but… Song was weird like that. It suited him, MacCready thought, smiling internally at the pun. <br/>While they traveled, Song was uncharacteristically silent, though he did not unholster his gun. MacCready didn’t have such reservations, carrying his rifle with two hands, as they came closer to Concord. <br/>Song held up a hand, silently signaling to lay low. In the distance, they could hear voices, shouting. It took MacCready a few seconds of listening to realize that these weren’t the noises of a fight. Someone was screaming something, then – laughter. No mutants then, but actual people. Raiders, by the sound of it.<br/>Worried, MacCready cast a glance towards Song, who seemed to still be listening. <br/>“So…”, MacCready whispered, uncertain on how to handle this. “Do we go in? Around? Is… is it okay for <i>me</i> to shoot them, if they’re raiders…or even worse? What’s the plan, Boss?”<br/>“If you absolutely have, yes. Though I’d prefer if you didn’t… I won’t hold you to the same standards I hold myself to, is what I want to say”, Song answered.<br/>“Ouch”, MacCready muttered.<br/>“It’s not like that, Creeds. I just don’t think it would be fair. You grew up here, you learned the rules and you never… never had another point of view. I do.” <br/>“What do you mean?” Could this be about the stuff Song had talked about with Daisy?<br/>“What do you mean, what do I mean? I’m from before the war, I thought you heard me speak about it?”, Song asked, confused. <br/>“Don’t make jokes like that, that’s impossible”, MacCready answered, even though a lot of the pieces had just come together for him. Was it really possible, that Song was telling the truth? <br/>“I’m not <i>joking</i>, not about stuff like this. I was frozen for about 200 years, that’s why I’m still… looking the way I do.” <br/>Suddenly, a gunshot rang out, followed by raucous laughter, and the two of them quickly snapped back to attention.<br/>“Maybe this isn’t the best place for that conversation”, Song murmured. MacCready threw him a look, that all but screamed ‘Oh really?”, before returning his attention to his rifle. <br/>“I’ll go in. If anything goes wrong, take out as many as you can. If…if you can make it non-lethally, I’d appreciate that”, Song asked, the last part of the sentence was nearly a plea. Then, he vanished, leaving MacCready to scramble for a better sniping spot. <br/><i>Great. Apparently, we’re attacking in broad daylight now.</i>, he thought, before reading himself.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Sanctuary out of Grasp</h2></a>
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<p></p><div class="center">
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    <b>Chapter 3 – Sanctuary out of Grasp </b>
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</div><i>Song</i><br/>Slowly, the two of them crept forwards. Song did notice that MacCready wasn’t half bad at sneaking himself, thought Song was far better. Still, it was impressive and Song added it to the list of things the other was impressive at. Not that he was keeping track.<br/>Now, he could pinpoint where the voices were coming from. And what he heard wasn’t good. Slowly, he moved further into the shadows of the alleyways and pulled MacCready with him.<br/>“It’s worse than I thought”, he whispered. “They’re in the old Museum of Freedom, and by the sound of it, there’s a lot of them.”<br/>“What do we do, Boss?”, MacCready asked. Why did he insist on calling Song that?<br/>“Do you see that shop over there?”, Song asked, pointing at a run-down store, which he knew would lead to the roofs.<br/>“Yeah?”<br/>“Go inside, you’ll find a set of stairs. Take those and move quietly. Be sure nobody sees you, then position yourself on the roof. I’ll do the same a bit further down the street. Scout them out, then come back after 15 minutes and tell me what you found”, Song said, each order clear and precise. His voice wasn’t commanding, but rather firm and assuring.<p>It was worse than he’d feared. The raiders had not only taken hold of the museum itself, but they’ve erected their own kind of settlement around it, with massive junk fences protecting each side. As far as he could see, there was only one gate, though there were a few defense posts. Also, there were a lot of raiders here. Too many, for Song’s tastes, especially this close to Sanctuary.<br/><i>I’ll have to warn Preston to keep an eye out. And build a few more turrets.</i>, he thought, as he slinked back to where he’d split from MacCready. The latter took a while to come back, and Song was already debating if he should check up on him, when his silhouette finally peeled itself out of the alley’s shadows.<br/>“The place is swarming with raiders, Boss. I think their leader is in the Museum, in the room behind the balcony. I saw something moving, but I couldn’t get a clear shot”, MacCready said. Then, he winced a bit and shot an apologetic look towards Song. “Not that I would have shot. Figure of speech, and all that.” <br/>“Good job, Creeds!”, Song said, honestly impressed. He hadn’t been able to figure out where the leader was located, only that they called him “Buster”. <br/>“Thanks. So… what do we do now? We could try to go around, but we’d have to be quiet about it. Not that that would be a problem for <i>you</i>”, MacCready said.<br/>“No, unfortunately we can’t just ignore this. I need to get them away from here, they… they’re too close to Sanctuary. And with those numbers… I don’t like the odds of a fight, if they do attack Sanctuary.” <br/>“Soo… you’re gonna try and take them out yourself?”, MacCready asked, shooting Song a bewildered look. <br/>Song grinned devilishly. <br/>“Well, I’m not about to take them on <i>directly</i>, am I?”, he asked.<br/>“Fair point. I’ll hold watch, you sneak in?” <br/>“Precisely what I wanted to suggest, yes. Please hold your fire, even without my… special… request, you’d draw a lot of attention. And getting cornered on a rooftop is never a good idea”, Song said, as he slowly vanished again. <br/>MacCready simply nodded, then made his way up to his sniping spot.</p>
<p>Song first took a small detour into one of the abandoned shops, scanning around for anything he could use to enter the camp safely. Broken lightbulbs, a broom, some cleaner… there! Carefully, he took up the dirty rag, and ripped it in two pieces, grimacing at the tearing sound it made. Listing for a few seconds, it didn’t seem like one of the raiders had heard the sound, so he continued with wrapping the pieces around his hands. Then, he snuck to the back of the camp, where he’d seen two of the fences standing a bit too far apart from each other. </p>
<p>Glancing through, he could see a small grass clearing, with a campfire in the middle of it. A greasy man with a short, black beard and small eyes was busy cooking what looked like a molerat, humming a tune to himself. His left side was turned towards Song, to his right there was a small wooden shack. Within, Song could see a small opening, the lead to the museum over a small plank gangway. Apparently they’d taken out one of the back-windows, that had been barred up the last time he was here, and made an entrance out of it. <br/>Song took a few deep breaths, readying himself. Then, as quiet as possible, he squeezed through the gap in the fence, using his rag-wrapped hands to keep the barbed wire at bay. Every inch was agonizingly slow, as he slowly squeezed ever farther into the camp, hoping the raider wouldn’t turn even in the slightest bit. <br/>Then, the humming stopped, and Song’s heart shot in his throat, as the raider stood up, getting a step closer to the campfire. <br/>Song stood petrified, as the man took out a wicked-looking switchblade, that clicked into place with an audible snap. Then, he prodded the mole rat’s body a few times, seemingly testing it’s consistency. After a few moments, he happily clicked his tongue, and took the rat from the fire. As he turned to sit back down, Song was ready to attack at a moment’s notice, ripping his skin apart with the wire, if need be, but the raider’s attention was commanded by the piece of meat, which he immediately began tearing into. </p>
<p>Action sprung back into Song’s limbs, as he began to move once more, still at a snail’s pace. There was no noise to be heard, as he finally made it through the gap, with even his suit undamaged. <br/>Suspiciously, he eyed the raider. In the end, he decided he didn’t need to knock him out, and simply snuck past behind him, into the small shack, which’s floorboards were miraculously silent. Though that might have to do with Song’s positioning and skill at stealth, than with the boards. <br/>After crossing the small gangway in the blink of an eye, he entered the building.</p>
<p>Suddenly, there was a loud noise behind him. Whirling around, he could see the raider, staring directly at him. Gaging the distance, Song realized that he wouldn’t be there fast enough to silence him, before he could say anything. <i>Fuck</i>. <br/>In this moment, a bang rung out, as a bullet entered the raider’s leg. It was a clean shot, not deadly, but enough to send him spiraling into unconsciousness immediately. <br/>That shot… It had to have been MacCready. Quickly, Song looked around, but for once he didn’t see the sniper. The idiot had just given away is position, just to keep a raider from discovering Song. He clenched his hands into fists, and stood completely still for a second, indecision coursing through his thoughts. Should he try to finish the mission, or help MacCready? <br/>The moment was short-lived. After a brief moment, Song’s face fell back into the impassive, vaguely smug grin he sported most of the time. It felt hollow, this time. Then, he returned back into the building. </p>
<p>All around him, he could hear raiders shouting, as they filed out of the building’s front-door to search for the assailant. Most of them were wielding some kind of pipe rifle, or pistol, as they stormed off. <br/>Song was hiding behind a staircase for the time being, waiting for an opening to slink upstairs without anyone noticing, thinking to himself how easy this had been the last time he’d been in the building. Granted, the raider’s numbers had tripled since then, but still… Briefly he wondered if he should try the radio trick again, but decided against it. <br/>As much of a calling card as it had become, everyone would be aware of his presence in the building. Additionally, people became really cocky, once they knew they were facing an opponent who didn’t kill, which Song was fine with, theoretically. Cocky meant imprecise, sloppy. Unfortunately, it also meant way more trigger-happy, which Song wasn’t really okay with. He liked his limbs where they were, thank you very much. <br/>Shortly after, two raiders stomped down the stairs. Had they only cast their eyes down for just a second, they would’ve spotted him. Fortunately for Song, people never tended to look up or down much. Quiet as a breeze, he snuck up the stairs once they had passed, ducking around a corner, where the wall had been smashed in to make a new pathway. <br/>He was close to the balcony – and the Buster’s room. As far as he could make out, a lock protected it, but it seemed easy enough to pick. He’d taken to carrying around some bobby pins and a screwdriver at all times, and so far, they’d done him a great service. <br/>Behind the door, there was the sound of… three?... people talking, with two voices sounding distinctly male, and another one belonging to a woman. Muffled as they were, Song couldn’t make out the topic, but they seemed to be pretty invested in the conversation. <br/>The door had no windows, so he wouldn’t have a chance to take in the situation before acting. Song would need to be quick, and concise. <br/>Silently, he drew his 10mm, and lay it on the ground before the door. Then, he got out his screwdriver, and his bobby pins. Once more, he mourned the good equipment he once had, proper lockpicking kits, and god, what he wouldn’t do for an actual <i>silenced</i> pistol. But… these would have to do for now, he decided. As soon as the lock was open, he’d grab the gun and move in, hopefully taking out one of them whilst they were still surprised. After that… well, he’d just have to be good, he supposed. </p>
<p>The door swung open, Song grabbed his gun. Then, he sprinted inside, rapidly taking in the situation. <br/>There was a terminal on a desk  in a corner to the right, the door to the balcony in the middle of the back wall, another door to the far left. One chair was propped up in the middle, looking pompous and out-of-place. The rest of the room was surprisingly clean and empty, save for the three people in it. <br/>Sitting in the chair, was a giant of a man, lacking any hair whatsoever, with a prominent scar across the left side of his neck. He was wearing metal armour, and had been playing with some brass knuckles, as Song entered the room. <br/>To his left and right stood a man and a woman, the latter of whom Song recognized as the red-haired woman with the good aim, that he’d fought before. She was wielding a revolver, and not a pipe one either. From a quick first glance, Song would’ve said it to be a .44 pistol. <br/>The man next to hair had long, black hair, a cleanly shaven beard, as well as sharp facial features. At his side, there was a wicked-looking machete with a serrated blade and a small pipe revolver. </p>
<p>All three of them were far quicker than Song would’ve liked, for as soon as he’d burst into the room, they had their weapons ready. The woman aimed her revolver at him, while the long-haired man pulled his machete and made a step to the right, forcing Song to divide his attention. <br/>The man in metal armour – ‘Buster’, by the looks of it, pushed himself off his chair. <br/>“What do you think yer doing?”, he asked, with a raspy voice, carrying a slightly sinister undertone. Calmly, he slipped on the brass knuckles, as his companions began to circle Song, their weapons at the ready. <br/>“Oh, you know. I thought it appropriate to say hi, given the… circumstances”, Song began to talk seemingly relaxed. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the red-haired woman inching ever closer, most likely trying to get behind him. Subtly, he shifted to prevent that, still looking at Buster, who was mockingly raising an eyebrow.<br/>“So… yer paying me a visit, is that it?” <br/>“Pretty much. I must say, it has been terrific, but I’m afraid I really must get going, it’s-“, Song began, cutting himself off mid-sentence, as he rushed to the woman’s side in the blink of an eye, aiming to slap her gun out of her hand with the palm of his left hand. The hit was successful, the gun flew out of her grip – only to be caught by her other hand. Without wasting any time, she thrust the gun towards him, pulling the trigger. <br/>The shots rang, just as he used his forearm to push the gun away, wood splintering. Then, he brought his knee up into her belly, forcing her to keel over, still holding onto her gun. <br/>Heavy footfalls could be heard behind him, and he barely managed to duck under the swing of the vicious blade, as the black-haired man swung his weapon at Song. In retaliation, he aimed a kick at the man’s left knee, hoping to break it. Instead, the man stepped to the side, and brought his blade down with barely enough time for Song to abandon the kick, in order to not get skewered. <br/>Suddenly, a ringing filled his ears, as a bullet flew past him, mere inches away from his face, and shattered the terminal’s screen. <br/>Grunting, Song whirled around, falling back towards the door, trying to keep an eye on both his opponents. This was <i>not</i> going well at all. And to top it all off, he could hear shouting from downstairs, indicating the arrival of even more raiders. Song gritted his teeth. </p>
<p>The woman aimed once more, Song barely ducking out of the way before the bullet was shot, as the man surged forward with a stab aimed at his stomach. Pain flared up in Song’s muscles, as he used the back of his gun’s barrel to deflect the blow, the strength he needed to do that surprising him. Whoever this machete-guy was, he was <i>strong</i>. <br/>With a swift movement of his feet, Song sent the blade wielder to the ground, before sprinting towards the woman, who answered with another shot of her gun. Song, who’d seen her aim, threw his entire body to the side to evade the shot, which brought him directly into the wall, from which he propelled himself off of, barreling into the woman. Both of them fell to the ground, Song grabbing her right wrist during the fall, keeping the gun aimed away from him. He crashed his elbow against her head, which momentarily put her out of commission. <br/>Immediately, Song turned around and grasped the bearded man’s right hand, preventing him from splitting Song’s skull open. His eyes widened with surprise, just as Song delivered a vicious jab between the other’s ribs with his bare hands. <br/>Shock cut off the other’s breathing for a second, and he stumbled backwards, which Song used to kick him in the chest. The machete fell from his hand, as his body crashed against the terminal. Immediately, Song was next to him, just as he was trying to get into an upright position again. A quick bash against the head with the grip of Song’s gun made him go limp. </p>
<p>Buster had done nothing the entire fight, and the way he just stood there made Song uneasy. Knuckles slipped onto his right hand, he had both arms hanging by his sides, lazily grinning at the intruder. <br/>Song kept an eye on him, as he closed the door. Luckily, there was a key in the lock. With a satisfying click, the door was locked. Still, Buster hadn’t made a move. <br/>“I don’t presume you want to simply surrender?”, Song asked, eying Buster wearily. Instead of an answer, the other simply grinned, exposing weirdly sharp teeth. </p>
<p>Then, Buster launched himself at Song. Quickly, Song sidestepped him, delivering a harsh elbow into his side, but the armour simply blocked it. Spinning around, Buster aimed a right hook straight at Song, which he wasn’t quick enough to dodge. <br/>Song’s breath hitched, as he felt the hard metal crunch into his chest, driving him backwards. It took everything he had not to keel over, but take a step back, dull pain hammering away at his ribs, as Buster closed the gap between them with a leisurely taken step. <br/>Swiftly, Song delivered an acrobatic kick to Buster’s head, which sent him reeling towards the ground, but he managed to bring his hands under himself, catching himself before he connected with the floor. Without losing time, Song swung his gun downwards, aiming for Buster’s head. Pain flared across his wrist, as Buster raised his metal-encased arm to block the swing. <br/>Clenching his teeth, Song jerked his right knee upwards, knocking into his opponent’s chest. The armour made a metallic sound, as Buster used the attack’s momentum to stand up, throwing a left-armed punch aimed at Song’s face.<br/>Ducking, Song twisted his upper body, legs still in place, as he grabbed hold of the raider’s arm, attempting to use the punch to throw Buster over his shoulder. Buster however pulled back and stood firm, so Song changed tactics and repositioned his hands. Then, he pulled, and pulled, until - suddenly there was a sound, like a twig snapping, and Buster howled. His face contorted in pain, then he delivered a brass-knuckled punch, that sent Song to the ground, black dots dancing around the edges of his vision. <br/>Buster stood over him, cradling his left arm. All playfulness had vanished from his face, that was now a grimace of pain and fury, as he raised his foot, ready to stomp the life out of Song. As it came down, Song could barely evade it, throwing himself to a side, his head still spinning. Shakily, he got back on his legs, still clutching his pistol. </p>
<p>It would be so easy to end this, if he’d only shoot. The temptation had his trigger finger itching, but as he dodged another one of Buster’s attacks, Song knew he wouldn’t do it. He had to do this the way he’d promised. If he failed now, he needn’t have bother in the first place. This was just regular metal armour, not even power armour, for fuck’s sake. <br/>Taking a breath, he steadied himself. He could do this. Song knew what to do, he just needed to put theory to practice. <br/>Once again, Buster lunged at him and this time, Song saw the mistakes. The ways, in which Buster left himself open, trusting the armour to do it’s job. But every armour had weak points, and Buster wasn’t even wearing a helmet. <br/>Song gave a grunt of pain, as the knuckles dug into his side once again, leaving bruises at the very least. But unlike the other times, he did not give in, this time. Standing his ground, he grabbed Buster’s healthy arm, and brought down the gun on where the joint between upper and lower arm was, right behind his elbow. Once again, there was a horrible sound, and Buster cried out, stumbling backwards, as Song released his arm, which now hung limp from his elbow onward. <br/>“<i>You…</i>”, Buster began to say something, seething with rage, but Song wasn’t particularly interested. Surging forwards, he kicked out Buster’s legs from under him, sending him flying to the ground. Then, he slammed his gun against his opponent’s head. Buster didn’t move again. </p>
<p>Collecting himself, Song scanned the room, the pain from his injuries flaring up once more, now that the fight was over. Three opponents, three unconscious people. All in all, he’d done a pretty good job, he found, as he limped from body to body, confiscating weapons and valuables. Weirdly, he noticed, there were no shouting raiders at the door. Hopefully, MacCready had managed to escape in time.</p>
<p><i>MacCready</i><br/>The floor was never comfortable in these types of situations. Just once, MacCready would’ve liked to lie on a plush carpet, while scoping out the enemy, or maybe under a nice tree… but no. Cold, hard floor it was. In addition, it was slightly damp, the wetness seeping into his clothes as soon as he’d settled down. <br/>He’d chosen a house slightly closer to the raider camp than he’d have liked, as all the other ones didn’t have a good spot to lay low. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than those, at least. The problem was the exits. This house only had one door, out to the front. </p>
<p>Through his scope, he followed Song’s slow movement through the fence, though most of the time he was nervously glancing at the eating raider, who didn’t seem to notice Song. His trigger finger was itching the entire time, though he knew it would be incredibly stupid to give away his position, especially in a position like this. <br/>Finally, Song had made it past the fence and was now sneaking past the eating raider, who seemed to be busy with his food. Still, MacCready didn’t trust it one bit, cross-hairs resting on the raider’s head. Then, MacCready remembered the request Song made. As little casualties as possible…<br/>Reluctantly, he aimed for the raiders leg, where the shock would hopefully be enough to knock him out, at least MacCready hoped for that. Should the bast- the raider had taken jet or buffout, Song and MacCready would be in some serious trouble. </p>
<p>Suddenly, the raider’s hand slipped, and a piece of molerat fell on the ground. Grumbling something to himself, the raider turned slightly – and tensed, knocking over a stool, as he looked into the building, where Song had just entered. Immediately, MacCready aligned his rifle, and pulled the trigger. <br/>The raider went down as planned, and MacCready hoped to any god that would listen, that this was enough to give Song time for whatever crazy plan he’d wanted to do. He himself would try and get the fu- hell out of here. </p>
<p>Which was easier said than done, as the raiders mobilized quicker than he’d thought. Someone must’ve seen the muzzle flash, he thought, as he saw a procession of at least six raiders move his way. <br/>Thoughts racing, he thought about his options. Fighting them? Possible, he could probably take six normal raiders. But they had reinforcements, and he wanted to draw them away from Song. <br/>He needed to get out, and <i>now</i>.</p>
<p>In seconds, he was aware of what he had to do, grimacing in anticipation because of it. The raiders would be by the door far too quick, and they would be expecting him. Cradling his rifle, he waited until he could hear the first heavy thumps at the door, as they tried to break it down. Then, he threw himself off the roof, bracing for impact.<br/>The pain somehow still managed to surprise him, as all air was pushed out of his lungs. His side burned with pain, as he slowly came back onto his feet. His vision was hazy, as he vaulted over the house’s fence sprinting off into the opposite direction of the raiders. <br/>Surprised shouts followed him, as well as quite a few bullets. One of these managed to graze his thigh, making him shout out in pain. He slowed down, not able to keep up his pace.<br/>Turning around, he saw at least five raiders on his tail. Quickly, he took a shot, missing widely. Not bothering with another one, he turned around again, and ran like a bat out of hell, luring them away from the camp, away from Song.<br/>He’d been running for at least a few minutes now, evading capture at every corner, but he was running out of breath, <i>fast</i>. Running was not what he was built for, he thought, as he turned around a corner – and froze. <br/>In front of him stood a muscular woman with no hair, holding a massive minigun. She smirked at him, raising an eyebrow. MacCready didn’t give an answered, but spun around instead, only to stare into the leering faces of three other raiders. <i>Fuck.</i></p>
<p>“Shooting one of us, and running away like a bitch, eh?”, the woman asked from behind him, prompting MacCready to turn around. He was still holding his rifle, even though he knew it was completely pointless. Hastily, he tried to come up with something, anything that would make them leave him alive. MacCready had never been a good liar.<br/>“I had some… personal business with him. Nothing against you, just him”, he blurted out, failing to see how this would help him. Mainly, he just wanted to keep the big woman with the bigger gun talking. From experience, he knew people didn’t like to talk while they shot.<br/>“That. Was. Really, really fucking dumb of you”, she said, nodding at one of the raiders behind MacCready, a tall person with a gas-mask hiding their face. <br/>They stepped up to MacCready, a pipe revolver held at the ready. Then, they began to talk in a calming tone, that had MacCready’s hairs standing right up. <br/>“Good, good. Stay niiice and calm, all right? You are going to give us your weapons. That’s right, hand them over, let’s not have any more… unnecessary violence.” <br/>“What if I don’t do it?”, MacCready asked through gritted teeth, unable to stop himself. Immediately, he regretted it, as the raiders started laughing. The gas-masked person stepped uncomfortably close to MacCready, who still hadn’t turned away from the minigun-woman. Gasmask was now standing directly at his back, which MacCready didn’t like one bit. <br/>Even through the thick layer of his clothes, he could feel the metal muzzle pressing against his already injured thigh. A small hiss escaped his lips, as the pain flared up. At this, the woman seemed to grin impossibly wider. <br/>“I guess… we would have to become a bit more <i>persuasive</i>”, Gasmask nearly whispered into his ear. <br/>MacCready suppressed a shiver of disgust running through him. <br/>“All right, all right. No need to get creepy”, he said, lowering his rifle. Then, he turned to the raiders behind him, holding out his beloved rifle towards them.<br/><i>You’d better get me out of here before I die, or I swear I’ll haunt you, Song</i>, he thought, as cold handcuffs were snapped around his wrists, tying them behind his back. Immediately, MacCready could feel his hands go cold and numb, as the cuffs bit into his circulation. <br/>Then, Gasmask kicked his legs out from under him. Without his hands, he had nothing to cushion the fall with, as he went to the ground, hitting the street <i>hard</i>. MacCready’s leg screamed out in pain, as did he. <br/>Around him, the raiders started laughing. Gasmask grabbed him painfully by the neck, and yanked him up again, before he was paraded towards the raider camp in defeat. </p>
<p>As they entered the camp, cheers and hideous laughter greeted them. Some of the raiders looked like they couldn’t wait to get their hands on MacCready, who had to bite back bile, at the thought of what they likely wanted to do with him. He couldn’t fight back. All MacCready could do was keep his head down until Song could rescue him – if he’d even rescue him at all. He hated it, the helplessness. It was like being in that damn subway tunnel all over again, fear seizing him, as he began to realize the situation he was in.<br/>He’d seen firsthand what raiders could do to people. Shivering, he remembered the dismembered corpses, hanging from meat-hooks. The screams of tortured settlers, as he stalked the camps, to report back to the gunners. </p>
<p>“Right, right, get your fucking hands off him”, the woman said. MacCready could hear the smirk, as she added: “For now. Buster’ll want to see this one first.” <br/>There was general disappointment among the raiders, as they slowly dispersed. There were much more of them than Song or MacCready had anticipated. MacCread guessed they’d been inside the museum, when the two of them had been doing recon. For now, there was no sign of Song, though MacCready would’ve been surprised to see one. The guy was sneaky as hell. Generally, if he didn’t want to be seen, he wasn’t seen. </p>
<p>As they ascended the stairs, the two raiders who hadn’t said anything yet split from them, while Gasmask and Minigun continued to manhandle MacCready towards the room with the balcony. <br/>Minigun was the first to arrive at the locked door, knocking on it. <br/>“Yo, Buster! You’ve got to see this guy, he shot Luc and tried to run away. Gave us a hunt, all right. We got him in the end, though”, she said, waiting for a reply. <br/>After a few seconds of silence, she frowned and turned towards Gasmask.<br/>“Maybe they’re busy?”, they said, still maintaining a tight grip around MacCready’s neck. <br/>“Busy with what? They’ll tell us to fuck off, if they want us gone.”<br/>“You are right. Something… something is off, don’t you think?”<br/>“Jepp”, she said, popping the ‘p’. Then, she turned towards the door, and raised her minigun. <br/>In one swift motion, she smashed the heavy weapon against the door. Once more, she hit it, until it finally gave way, slamming open. <br/>Immediately, the woman let out a small grunt of confusion, as she took in the room. Gasmask gave a similar sound, though their hand was still forcing MacCready’s head down. He couldn’t see what was going on, though from the sounds of it, Song had made his move. </p>
<p>“Who the fuck are you”, the woman said, her voice sounding icy cold. “Where’s Buster?” <br/>“Good evening to you too, madam”, a voice answered, that MacCready knew all too well. A tiny smile flickered around his lips, as he waited for the Song’s bullsh- bullcrap to unfold. <br/>“Who. The fuck. Are. You?”, she said instead of a greeting, her teeth audibly grinding against each other. <br/>At this point, the hand vanished from MacCready’s neck in favour of gripping the rifle they had stolen from him even tighter. <br/>MacCready took his chance to look up, and his eyes widened at the scene before him.</p>
<p>On a chair in the middle of the room, was Song, leisurely crossing his legs. Sitting on his knee, was a revolver, which he loosely held. He was wearing a smug grin, as he gestured for the newcomers to come closer. <br/>MacCready noticed there was a lot of blood on the floor in front of him. Two people were lying on the ground, clearly unconscious. Neither of them had any wounds that looked like they should bleed that much. Even Song, who was bleeding <br/>“My name won’t ring a bell. I have, however, often been referred to as Song”, he answered. The reaction was immediate, a sharp intake of breath, followed by a slow exhale. The raiders posture showed apprehension, even fear, but also… something else. Respect? <br/>“I… know you”, Gasmask said, stepping closer to their burly companion. “You infiltrated Zimonja once, didn’t you?” <br/>“Zimonja… Oh, yes. I did. You had the guy with the power armour, right?”, Song asked.<br/>“Yeah. Left all of us alive, though”, Gasmask said.<br/>“So, it’s really true? You don’t fucking kill at all?”<br/>“I’m afraid I have to admit I don’t, no. Not usually”, Song said, ignoring the minigun pointing at him. <i>What is he doing?</i><br/>“So, if we try to shoot the shit out of you, you can’t do shit against us?”, the woman asked, a wolfish grimace crossing her features. <br/>“Now, now. Let’s think about this for a second. Do you really believe nobody has thought about this until now?”<br/>“…your point?”, she asked, clearly irritated and ready to shoot. <br/>For some reason though, she hesitated. MacCready could feel it. The way that Song gave himself, this chilled, calm and talky kinda way… something he did ensured he’d get out of this. And Minigun was anxious to find out what it was. Someone as famous as Song wouldn’t present himself on a silver platter without a dam- dang good backup plan. <br/>MacCready met Song’s eyes, as he spoke, which lingered on him for just a bit. There was no hint of emotion visible on his face, as he went on, only this relaxed, smug look. <br/>For some reason, MacCready felt a bit hurt by that. Sure, Song had to maintain his drama, but… wouldn’t one sign of concern be okay? <br/>Then, he mentally kicked himself. Song was most likely only still around because MacCready got himself caught. What weird scheme Song was trying to pull, he was doing it because of MacCready. The least he could do was help him, without acting like a kicked puppy. </p>
<p>Song remained silent for just a second too long, drawing out the tension in the room to a maximum. Gasmask and Minigun were just about to loose it, their fingers noticeably itching to tighten around the trigger, as he finally spoke again. <br/>“The point, my dear, is the following”, and his voice dropped to a low whispered, that tugged at MacCready’s gut. The raider’s visibly paled at Song’s next words. <br/>“Whatever torture you think you can inflict, I can do better. I was trained in breaking every single bone in your body, and leaving you alive. I can carve at your sinew, your muscle, your flesh all day, without killing you. The pain and suffering I can inflict upon you exceeds <i>anything</i> you can even imagine, and I can do it. All. Day. Long. Over, and over again, if I so please.” <br/>“…we… we’re.. there’s two of us. And she”, Gasmask said, pointing at their comrade, “has a minigun. You can not come up against that!” <br/>Song simply smiled, cocking his head in what would be an innocent manner, were it not for the situation they were in. <br/>“You still haven’t told us where Buster is, you sick fuck”, Minigun demanded, raising her gun once more, to emphasise her point. <br/>“Ah, yes. Buster is his name, you say? I’m afraid he was… not cooperative. I was forced to… remove him”, Song said, and a shiver ran down MacCready’s spine. <i>Song, what did you do?</i><br/>Minigun took a step back. <br/>“No. That’s literally impossible, what the fuck. Some… you can’t. It’s not possible”, she stammered, looking to Gasmask for confirmation that Song was having them on. But they were simply staring at Song.<br/>“You… you weren’t there, at Zimonja, like I was”, they finally said to her. “This guy… he can do things you wouldn’t believe… What do you want from us? Why aren’t you gone already?” <br/>The last part had been aimed at Song, who smiled at them. <br/>“I’m so glad you asked. Give me. The prisoner”, he answered, his voice suddenly icy cold. <br/>“The…the prisoner? Why? He’s just a dude we picked up, who thought it’d be funny to shoot at Luc and run off”, Gasmask answered, their voice uncertain. <br/><i>They didn’t piece together that I’m working with him</i>, MacCready suddenly realized, apparently in the same moment that Song did.<br/>“I don’t care. He’s a good shot, from what I saw. I want him for… a job, I’d like to get done.” <br/>The lie was perfect. It made sense, and Song remained as leisurely draped across the chair as he’d been the entire conversation. MacCready felt a tiny bit of uneasy, as he saw how easily a lie could get past Song’s lips. Sure, this one was for his benefit, but… how many hadn’t been? <br/>“I don’t give a shit!”, the woman suddenly yelled, getting her weapon ready to fire. “You fucked with the wrong gang, dickhead!” <br/>Immediately, Gasmask was out of the door, though MacCready noticed they didn’t run away any further. The whirring of the minigun started to fill the room with it’s sound, but Song wasn’t sitting on the chair anymore. Suddenly, he was right in front of the woman, next to the gun. With one quick motion, he pointed the gun at her right hand, and pulled the trigger. <br/>An animalistic scream escaped her throat, as the gun clattered to the ground next to her. Three of her fingers were missing, and she was cradling the hand against her chest, shooting looks of pure murder at Song, who didn’t seem to care. <br/>Instead, he walked straight past her, then past MacCready, who was still kneeling in the hallway. Song stopped in front of Gasmask, who simply looked up at him. <br/>“The keys. Now. Then, tell your people to stand down”, Song ordered in a harsh tone. <br/>Gasmask merely handed out a single key. Then, they rushed downstairs without another word. </p>
<p>Song moved behind MacCready and began to unlock the cuffs. Meanwhile, he whispered:<br/>“Everything all right?”<br/>“Yeah, I’m okay. Mostly. They shot my leg”, MacCready whispered back. Then, the handcuffs fell away, and he was finally able to use his hands again. Immediately, he began rubbing the circulation back into them. His wrists showed an ugly red colouration, where the cuffs had bit into his skin. <br/>Song’s eyes seemed to linger on the red stripes for a second too long, before he turned around. Then, he gestured towards MacCready. <br/>“Follow me.” </p>
<p>Their walk out of the camp was… weird, at the very least. The way Song walked, the way he met every single raider’s stare head-on, unflinching… it wasn’t just brave, or even reckless. MacCready had never seen someone he’d describe as royal, but in this moment… Song held himself like a king. <br/>None of the raucous laughter that had followed MacCready came, none of the sneering, nothing. It was dead silent, as Song, descended into the main building, his suit stained crimson by blood. </p>
<p>As impressive as it was, MacCready was uneasy. Not just because they were dealing with a bunch of raiders, that could kill the two of them anytime, should they loose their weird reverence for Song, but also because… Song just looked unnatural like this. There was no trace of that perpetual, slightly smug smile, none of the amusement and daring that normally resided in his eyes. Just that cold, featureless expression. It… It creeped MacCready out more than he cared to admit. </p>
<p>Soon, they were walking out of the gate, with the raiders still silent. The tension was palpable, each and everyone was ready to grab their gun at a moment’s notice. But the final straw, that drop that would cause everything to explode, was held by Song. And his grip was iron, unwavering, as he strode out of the gate, MacCready tailing behind him.<br/>Without a word, Gasmask handed him his rifle. Then, they closed the gate behind them. <br/>Immediately, MacCready wanted to rush to Song’s side, ask him what the fu-heck just happened, but he had to be patient for a little longer. Still, eager eyes were watching them, ready to shoot at the smallest weakness they presented. So, onward they went, out of Concord, towards Sanctuary. </p>
<p>It was after they’d passed a small hill, far out of earshot of the raiders, that Song finally turned towards MacCready, in one rapid motion. His eyes roamed across him, and all false distance was gone in an instant. Instead, these grey eyes, that were so cold just a moment ago seemed to fill with worry, as Song took a step closer to MacCready.<br/>“Creeds, I- <i>Why did you do that? God, that was… that was so goddamn stupid!</i>”, Song finally burst out, and MacCready averted his eyes. <br/>“Look, Boss, I… don’t know. The guy was about to discover you, and I didn’t think, and… I just shot, okay? It’s done. That’s it. Worked out well in the end, didn’t it?”<br/>“Worked…? Creeds, you’re <i>bleeding</i>”, Song emphasised. His hands came to rest on MacCready’s wrist, slowly touching, as if to ask permission. MacCready nodded, and Song turned them towards the sky. Angry, red lines, which had cut deep into the skin, shone in the light of the evening sun. There was still a small trickle of blood running down MacCready’s forearm, from where the cuffs had shredded his skin. <br/>Gently, Song swiped his thumb across the line on MacCready’s right wrist, as if apologizing without words. </p>
<p>“They…um..”, MacCready started, and then cleared his throat. Soft, but determined, he pulled away his wrists from Song’s hold, and gestured to his leg. “…they got my leg, mostly. My wrists just… hurt a bit, that’s all… May need to bandage the leg, once we arrive in Sanctuary, though.” <br/>Song’s face fell, and he shook his head rapidly. <br/>“Ohhh, no you don’t. We’ll give this a stimpack, immediately. That’ll help you help nice and quick”, he insisted. MacCready began shaking his head.<br/>“It doesn’t hurt much, really, and I can-“<br/>“-if you’re going to say ‘take it’, first of all, that’s an innuendo if I ever saw one, and second of all, we have enough of them. It’s better if you take one now.” <br/>“A what? Know what… nevermind. I don’t need you wasting stimpacks on me, okay? I’m fine!”, MacCready started to raise his voice. <br/>“For fuck’s sake Creeds, just take the bloody stimpack all ready! It’s not that… okay, know what?” <br/>Song took out a stimpack, and for a second MacCready was afraid he’d just force him to take one. Thankfully, though, Song simply put it on a rock nearby, and pointed his gun at it. Calmly, he began to look at his pip-boy, apparently counting something.<br/>“Cut the sh-crap, Song, what are you doing?”, MacCready asked confusedly.<br/>“Look. We’ve got two options. I <i>will</i> shoot this stimpack in a minute. Either, you’ve used it by then, or… it goes to waste. Happy now?” <br/>“You…”, MacCready started, but trailed off, as he didn’t find anything that really suited Song. Defeated, he limped to the rock, and used the stimpack. Immediately, the sweet warmth of the medicine started coursing through him, chasing the pain away. His wounds knitted themselves together, and as they did, the angry red lines vanished, as though they’d never been there in the first place. Only two thin, silver lines remained. </p>
<p>“Creeds…what you did. That was very, very stupid”, Song began to speak, after MacCready’s wounds had completely closed themselves.<br/>“Thanks, Boss. Needed the validation today”, MacCready deadpanned.<br/>“It was! Putting yourself out like that, in an area full of raiders, just because one of them had seen me… god, I can’t even begin… that was so unbelievably stupid. But… it was also very brave. And I really needed it. So… thank you.” <br/>“…um…no problem”, MacCready replied lamely, not used to the earnest expression on Song’s face. To be completely honest with himself, he didn’t know why he’d done it. He <i>knew</i> it had been a bad decision, that the raiders would get him within minutes, but… he’d still fired the shot. MacCready hadn’t even killed the guy, for f- god’s sake. Just because Song had asked him to. <br/>It came back down to Song, huh? As soon as his boss was in danger, MacCready had apparently forgotten about self-preservation all together, something, that worried him more than he’d like to admit. In the end, firing the bullet had been a split-second decision, and he didn’t know why he’d done it. <br/>Even though Song wore a quizzical look on his face, he didn’t question MacCready any further. MacCready would’ve been willing to take bets though, that he was also trying to piece together exactly why he’d fired the shot, giving himself away. And Song would probably come to truer solution than MacCready did, something that didn’t sit right with the mercenary. </p>
<p>After a good three hour walk, they arrived at a small bridge, that wasn’t all that special in and of itself. What was special though, was the wall that stretched out behind it, only interrupted by a mighty wooden gate. On two platforms beside it, MacCready could see turrets whirring, their machineguns ready to rip any intruders to shreds. <br/>Worried, he cast a glance at Song, who looked completely relaxed. Catching MacCready’s eye, he shook his head slightly. No threat here, apparently. <br/>“Good evening, Sanctuary!”, Song cried out, as they reached the gates, without the guns opening fire at them.<br/>“Who’s there?”, a female voice shouted out, coming from behind the gate.<br/>“Lydia, don’t tell me it’s been so long you can’t recognize my voice anymore”, Song joked, “it’s me. Song. General of the minutemen and all that?” <br/>“General? Hold, on, I’ll open the gates in a sec!”, Lydia replied, sounding excited.<br/>Next, the heavy wooden gates were opened. Behind them, MacCready could see a street, as well as rows of houses. People were walking across the road, chatting happily, a dog was barking and in the distance, MacCready could see a wooden market-square, where traders had set up shop. <br/>Song nudged him lightly to get his attention. With a barely concealed smile of pride, he whispered: <br/>“Welcome to Sanctuary, Creeds.”</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Gearing up and getting down</h2></a>
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    <b>Gearing up and getting down </b>
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</div><i>MacCready</i><br/>Sanctuary was practically buzzing with people. While Song was speaking with Lydia, the woman who had greeted ‘the general’ at the gate, MacCready was standing off to the side, taking in the scene.<br/>Some of the houses were obviously pre-war, though they had been made to more of a foundation for more houses to be build on top of. Towers of wood and metal stretched towards the sky, connected by bridges. On them, MacCready could see various Settlers and even children walking around without a care in the world. Some of them weren’t even <i>armed</i>!<br/>Everything seemed so… peaceful. Not even Little Lamplight had been so carefree. Goodneighbor certainly wasn’t, and even though Diamond City liked to pretend everything was fine, the security was more than tense most of the time… this though… this was almost like MacCready pictured pre-war villages looked like.<p>“Do you like it?”, Song asked, his voice nearly timid, as he appeared out of thin air. MacCready suppressed a shudder and turned around to him.<br/>“You really need to stop doing that, you know?” <br/>“What, and rid myself the joy of seeing you jump three feet in the air?”, Song smiled cockily. “I don’t think so.” <br/>“Dick…”, MacCready muttered light-heartedly. <br/>“So? What do you think?”<br/>“About the place? Yeah, it’s pretty nice, I guess. It’s just… the people are a bit too relaxed, you know? They could be attacked at any moment, and they just walk around like they don’t care.” <br/>“That’s… not entirely true. Look again”, Song said, pointing at various points in the settlement.<br/>MacCready’s eyes flickered from one thing to another, truly taking in what he was seeing for the first time. <br/>There were people dressed in this weird, almost historical-looking garb <i>everywhere</i>. And almost all of them were carrying some type of laser weapon. MacCready counted over two dozen on this street alone, not to mention the towers. <br/>Then, Song nudged him and nodded towards the wall, which MacCready could now see, was surrounding the entire settlement, as far as the eye could reach. Each segment was divided from the next by a small watchtower and on it’s roof, there was a heavy machinegun turret, looking over the lands.</p>
<p>He let out a low whistle. <br/>“Those are… some defences your people set up there”, he finally said, after taking in the entire scene. Still, some doubts remained. A few of the turrets weren’t functioning, as far as MacCready could tell. And the towers were a sniper’s dream. All those people, in elevated positions. And even if that weren’t a problem, all it would take to make the entire thing collapse were a few well-placed mini-nukes. <br/>“I know”, Song answered, once again smiling. “Come, let me show you around.” <br/>“Sure. I’ll follow your lead, Boss.” </p>
<p>Turns out, a large part of the settlement was dedicated to cultivating a mutfruit farm, the size of which MacCready had never seen before. Even though it was mostly mutfruit, he could spot some corn, a few tomatoes, even melons growing here. All of them were tended to by various settlers. <br/>Nearly every one of them threw a cheerful word or two at them, after noticing Song (which was a bit difficult, granted. The man was stealthy even when he wasn’t trying to be). A few even stopped what they were doing and began chatting for a bit, until Song moved to the next part of the settlement. <br/>The way they spoke to Song was… admiring, like they revered him. Most people clung to every word from his lips, as he talked, saying more and more, just to keep the conversation going. MacCready found himself growing irrationally irritated, the longer this went on, though he couldn’t really tell why. </p>
<p>Because of this, he was ecstatic to find a smaller building with a sign, that said ‘The brief Respite’. If the brightly coloured signs spelling out the word ‘liquor’ beneath it were to be believed, it was a bar.<br/>Song was currently talking to this guy called ‘Preston’, probably the same one Song had been muttering about before. He was dark-skinned, and wore the tackiest of all the historical outfits. Every second word from his mouth seemed to be the word ‘minutemen’, though MacCready found that he didn’t really mind. For some reason, Preston seemed friendly enough, though he kept sending him weird looks, almost angry. Preston wouldn’t have any reason to be angry with him, though, he never met the man. <br/>“Hey, Boss”, MacCready said. Impulsively, he’d tugged at Song’s shirt-sleeve like a little child. Immediately after, he let go, but his face heated up, as Song and Preston turned their eyes on him. <br/>“Yes Creeds?”<br/>“There…There’s a bar there?”, MacCready mumbled awkwardly, gesturing towards it.<br/>“Ah, yes! You haven’t met Codsworth yet, right? I have to introduce you two. And you’ll love what we’ve done with the place!”, Song said. Then, he briefly turned towards Preston. “I’ll talk to you later, Preston. After all, I need to be a proper host right now, don’t I?” <br/>“Sure, General. Who’s your guest, by the way?”, Preston asked, making eye contact with MacCready. <br/>“I’m MacCready, the best sniper in the Commonwealth. Nice to meet you… Preston, was it?”, MacCready boasted, a confident smile playing around his mouth. Preston seemed less than thrilled however, as he kept fixating MacCready with a borderline disapproving glare.<br/>“Preston Garvey, yes. You’re with the General now?” <br/>“Yes, he’s with me. Is there a problem, Preston?”, Song asked, sounding earnestly surprised at Preston’s attitude. <br/>“No, no. It’s just that I’m going to have to have a talk with you, MacCready.”<br/>“A talk? Like… a ‘talk’ talk, or a talk talk?”, MacCready asked, tapping his rifle at the first option. <br/>“Nothing like that. An actual talk.” <br/>“I need him Preston. Don’t do anything reckless, whatever it is you want from him”, Song warned. <br/>“As you wish. I’m going to go now. See you later, General. MacCready”, he said, nodding at the both of them. Then, he disappeared into a nearby tower. </p>
<p>“Well…that was weird?”, Song commented, half questioning, half stating. “Anyway, yeah. The bar. Let’s go, you’ll love it.” <br/>MacCready followed, as Song entered the building.<br/>Immediately, he was greeted by the sound of pleasant music. At the same time, he was hit with the smell of freshly made food and opened drinks. <br/>Looking around, MacCready discovered that the brief respite was actually quite a large pub, maybe even larger than the third rail back in Goodneighbor. At the back of the building, there was a large bar set up. Behind it there were shelves, filled to the brim with high-quality bottles of liquor. Or at least as high-quality as you could get in the Commonwealth. People were sitting around small wooden tables, chattering happily as they drank. Some eyes followed the two newcomers, but most people returned to what they were doing, as soon as they recognized Song. <br/>Peering at the bar, MacCready was confused for a moment, before realizing that the metallic robot behind it wasn’t <i>actually</i> Charlie, as he had briefly thought, but another Mister Handy. This one seemed to have seen far more wear and tea, some of his plating badly dented. The three eyestalks whirred towards Song and MacCready, as they approached. </p>
<p>“Ah, Sir! I’m so happy for you to have returned!”, the robot said in a strangely pleasant, male voice.<br/>“I’m glad to be back, Codsworth. Can you whip up a coffee for me?”, Song replied with a smile.<br/>“Of course Sir! But first…” his photo-receptors narrowed, as he eyed MacCready up and down, “may I ask who this is?” <br/>“This is a friend of mine, MacCready. Creeds, this is Codsworth, my butler. He runs this bar, and he’s far better at it than Charlie, trust me.” <br/>“If you say so, Boss. Hey Codsworth, nice to meet you”, MacCready said, a bit awkwardly. Codsworth’s overwhelming friendliness was very different to Charlie’s… Charlieness.<br/>“And the same to you, mister! A friend to Master Iden is a friend to me! Can I get you anything?”<br/>“No thanks, I’m going to have a look around first. Maybe later, though”, MacCready said, shooting a questioning look towards his boss, though Song seemed to ignore him, suddenly very interested in the various bottles behind the bar.<br/>“Certainly!”, Codsworth replied. Then, he floated off, presumably to make Song’s coffee.</p>
<p>“So… Iden, huh?”, MacCready finally asked. <br/>“Yeah, that’s… my actual name. Iden Venclaire”, Song answered with a sigh. <br/>“It’s not a bad name… I like it, actually. It fits”, MacCready said. <br/>“Thank you. It’s not that I don’t like it, it’s… the name I had before the war, you know? I just feel… I don’t know, it doesn’t really fit anymore, I think.”<br/>“I can keep calling you Song, if you want?”, MacCready offered.<br/>“I’d like that, yes. Thank you”, Song said with a warm smile. <br/>A few moments later, Codsworth returned with a cup of coffee. <br/>“Here you go Sir, a fine coffee, freshly brewed. I do hope I got it right, I tried to make it just the way I did all these years ago.” <br/>“Thank you, Codsworth.”, Song said. Then he took a sip, closing his eyes to savour the taste before swallowing it down. A relaxed look crept onto his face for the first time since MacCready had met him. He looked… almost peaceful, the way he didn’t even look when he slept. <br/><i>Dam-Dang, that must be some good coffee.</i>, MacCready thought, still watching Song. </p>
<p>After spending some time in the brief respite, Song leads MacCready farther through the village. To the back of it, MacCready could see a single pre-war house, left mostly as it were. Someone had hooked a windmill up to it, and it’s lights shone out into the night, but that was it. <br/>Opening the door with a key from his pocket, Song let them both in. The interior was nothing special, just a large room with a bar, a carpet, some paintings and furniture, but somehow this felt more intimate than the rest of the buildings Song had shown him. Maybe because it was so small, or obviously not lived in. There was dust gathering on the tabletop, and the couch hadn’t been sat on in months.<br/>“Is this your house?”, MacCready asked, still standing in the entrance, while Song had already begun to sit on the sofa.<br/>“Yes. I live here, when I’m not traveling around the Commonwealth”, Song said. MacCready frowned, closing the door behind him. How long had Song been away? <br/>“That’s not what I meant. Is this your house, from…before?”, he clarified. Song looked surprised for a second, then touched, for some reason.<br/>“No, that’s… no it’s not. My house is one of the foundations for the towers. After… I couldn’t live there anymore. Not after everything that happened.” <br/>“Oh. I’m… sorry.” <br/>“Don’t be. It’s not your fault. And… it happened a long time ago, anyway. There’s no use in being sad about it now”, Song sighed. MacCready gave him a funny look and opened his mouth, as if to say something, but nothing came out. Song returned his gaze with a questioning expression. <br/>“It’s… it’s okay being sad. You don’t need to have… it’s okay to be sad, without having a use for it. Just… don’t let it keep you from doing what you need to, okay?”, MacCready finally said. <br/>“…okay”, Song whispered after a while. MacCready smiled at him.</p>
<p>After a while, MacCready yawned loudly. Song raised an eyebrow. <i>Who even does that?</i><br/>“Sorry, it’s been a day”, he said sheepishly. <br/>“Indeed it has. Where are you going to sleep?”, Song asked him.<br/>“What… what do you mean? Like, in a bed, or…?”, MacCready answered confused. <br/>“Will you be sleeping here with me, or in a bed at the pub? It has upstairs rooms.” <br/>MacCready spluttered. Was Song asking him to <i>sleep with him</i>? Usually his boss was a bit more charming and a lot less direct. <br/>“I mean… here? How -err, I mean where, like here on the couch, or…?”<br/>Song gave a small laugh, apparently amused by his employee’s confusion. MacCready was pretty sure he was glowing red right about now. <br/>“I have two bedrooms, Creeds. Though… if you’re offering, I wouldn’t be opposed at all”, Song smirked. Something suggested he wasn’t referring to MacCready sleeping on the couch. And <i>god</i> MacCready swore he’d never seen something so utterly… suggestive… in his entire life. <br/>He was now definitely blushing, and probably having an internal breakdown. It wasn’t that he wasn’t… <i>that</i>, it’s just he’d never before been into… these things, and honestly everything was just a lot right now, and why was Song still staring at him with that expression on his face? <br/>“I… umm… I don’t… you know what? The inn sounds good. I’ll take… yeah. The inn. Thanks for the… offer? I’ll, umm, I’ll get going now, Boss, if you don’t mind”, MacCready stammered, desperate to get out of this situation. He had a lot to think about and he couldn’t get any thinking done when Song was in the same fu-dang room as he was, <i>especially</i> not if his boss was looking at him like that.<br/>“Suit yourself. Goodnight, Creeds.” <br/>“Yeah. ‘night, Boss.”</p>
<p>Back in the bar, he crashed at one of the tables away from the main part of the bar. There weren’t really any people here, and MacCready needed that right now. Pressing his palms to his forehead, he stared down at the table, trying to make sense of everything. <br/>“What did you get yourself into this time, huh?”, he muttered. <br/>Did he <i>like</i> Song? Looking back, it wasn’t that difficult to answer, if he was being honest with himself. Even the very first time he’d seen Song, through his scope, he’d been nearly starstruck, with how fuc-dang good that man looked. <br/>So maybe, <i>maybe</i> he was attracted to Song? He could easily see how he could be physically attracted. Song was good-looking, maybe even the best looking man he’d ever seen. <br/>Yeah, that had to be it. Not like he’d ever shown interest in men before, but there was a first time for everything, right? And Song, as usual, was the exception to things. MacCready wasn’t gay, not really. It was just Song who was something special. <br/>And even if he was, it’s not like anybody in the Wasteland cared who you fucked. When running from mutated lizards with razor-sharp claws was just another danger of everyday life, people tended to care a lot less about social graces. Sure, there were some pre-war books he’d read that said otherwise, but MacCready generally didn’t put too much stock in people who were already dead, especially not if they died because of their own stupidity. <br/>Thinking back on the conversation he had with Song about ‘A dream in White’, he wondered why anyone had let these people make any decisions, when they were clearly so dang bad at it. <br/>Getting back on track, he sighed. So, he was attracted to Song. No big deal, right? People were attracted to other people all the time. Sure, the two of them had a professional relationship, and he wouldn’t ruin that by trying to sleep with him, but this was normal. Not a problem at all. He’d just keep it under wraps and it’d go away by itself. <br/>Yeah, Song had flirted with him on several occasions, but that was just Song being Song. He was nice to everyone, and half the time it felt like he flirted with you, even when he was actually threatening you. It was just something about that voice of his. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry, Sir, can I speak with you for a moment?”, a distinctly British voice startled him out of his thoughts, as Codsworth the robot-butler slash bartender approached him. <br/>“Sure. What’s up?”, MacCready answered curious as to what Codsworth might want from him.<br/>“It’s about Master Iden, if you don’t mind?”<br/>“About… Song? What about him?” <br/>“What is your relationship to him, if you don’t mind me asking? The two of you seem to be traveling together?”, Codsworth questioned him, and MacCready was suddenly grateful that robots couldn’t read minds. At least… as far as he knew. <br/>“Yeah, we do. He hired me to shoot some stuff and carry his junk around, that’s all.”<br/>“Ah, is that so? Well, what have you been doing, if you don’t mind me asking?”<br/>“Honestly? We just kinda travelled from here to there and took care of a few things that popped up along the way. Why’re you asking? Anything that we shoulda been doing?”<br/>“Well, if you ask like that… There is something that Master Iden still has to do, and… I’m afraid he’s distracting himself”, Codsworth said, sounding worried. If a robot could wring it’s hands, MacCready was sure Codsworth would be doing that right now.<br/>“Something that he still has to do? What do you mean?”, MacCready asked. <br/>“He hasn’t told you, huh? Well, I’m terribly sorry, Sir, but I can’t disclose Master Iden’s personal information. I’m sure he’ll tell you in due time. And, if you don’t mind the hint, sometimes he needs a little push to get on the right path, if you get my meaning”, Codsworth said, one of his eyes winking. <br/>“I’ll… ask him about it. Thanks, Codsworth”, MacCready muttered.<br/>“I’ll hear nothing about it, Sir. Now, can I get you anything?” <br/>“Yeah. I think it’s about time I get drunk. Sanctuary is safe, isn’t it?”<br/>“Absolutely, Sir. Apart from Diamond City, and maybe Goodneighbor and Bunker Hill, this is the safest settlement in the Commonwealth!”, Codworth replied enthusiastically. Then, he went to the bar and grabbed a shot glass, as well as a bottle of… whatever it was that sloshed around in there. <br/>MacCready was too sober to deal with all of this. And he knew exactly what to do, to make that go away. </p>
<p>This time, there was no cure waiting for him, once he awoke in an unfamiliar bed. The room he was in, a simple wooden room with only a bed, a nightside table and a chair, turned out to be one of the rooms the brief respite rented to it’s guests. <br/>Codsworth assured him that he didn’t need to pay, being here with Song and all, which he all too happily obliged. The more caps he saved, the more he had to spend. And god knew, he needed them. </p>
<p>Now he was standing in front of Song’s white door. There was no doorbell or anything, and MacCready wasn’t quite sure what to do now. Song hadn’t really explicitly told him to come back in the morning. Should he wait until the other went to get him, or just go in now? What if his boss was doing something private – whatever that was – and didn’t want him around?<br/>MacCready shook his head. Song would’ve told him, he was sure of it. That man wasn’t shy with his words, not by a long shot. <br/>Cautiously, he pushed the door’s handle and was surprised to feel no resistance, as he pulled the door open. MacCready was pretty sure Song had used a key when they arrived. Reassured, he went inside, closing the door behind him. Why would the door be open when Song wasn’t expecting anybody? </p>
<p>Making his way upstairs, Song peered into the rooms he went past. It wasn’t just out of curiosity, he had to find his boss after all. Still, he didn’t need to linger as long as he did in some of those rooms.<br/>Most were pretty normal, a kitchen, a living room, a bathroom, and at first glance, there was nothing off about them. Inspecting a few of them further, MacCready did notice something odd. While they were all clean and relatively dust-free, none of them really seemed used. <br/>Sure, Song had been away for quite a while, from the sounds of it, but some things suggested they’d never been used. MacCready was the first to admit he wasn’t the sharpest, and he may be wrong about some things… but his eyes were pretty damned good. He noticed things. Things like the chairs being just a little bit too close to the table for anyone to sit comfortably. The complete absence of any dirt from the bathroom. The armchair standing in such a way, that the window wouldn’t allow light to fall on it, should one want to read a book. <br/>Each of them was easily explainable on their own, but together they formed the uncanny picture of a house, that wasn’t a home to anyone. An empty husk, pretending to be loved and cherished. Finely placed paintings suggested a love of animals, kittens along the walls, a set of porcelain cups pretended to be used for quaint teatime chats, but it was all… empty. Unused. <br/>The hairs on MacCready’s arms began to stand up at this, and he had to suppress a shiver. Something about this struck him the wrong way. Sure, it was a bit creepy but mostly? He thought it was sad. <br/>Thinking back to one of the little post-cards he’d seen in a pre-war store he once holed up in, he remembered one that elicited a bitter chuckle from him. It had been a faded heart, once a colour that was supposed to be organic, but so unlike blood really was. In white letters, it had announced: HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS.<br/>Little Lamplight had felt like home. Sure, there where things wrong with it. They never seemed to have enough to eat, and they had to fight tooth and nail to survive the winters, but still. It had been home. A place to stay, that was more than just a place. <br/>This house had no heart. It was empty. Gripped by a strange mood, MacCready wondered if this was what Little Lamplight might look now. Maybe all the children had died, leaving it only a memory with nobody but him to hold? <br/>MacCready shook his head. What was going on with him lately? Since when had he started waxing philosophical? His problems were usually much more down to earth, like, you know… the fu-goddang gunners that brought him here in the first place? He needed to find Song. His boss had promised to help, after all. </p>
<p>Only one door wasn’t open, probably the bedroom. It was a simple, brown door. Tentatively, MacCready knocked, then waited. There were sounds from the other side, barely noticeable, but there. Was that… crying? <br/>Something cold seemed to suck out the breath from his lungs, so slowly he didn’t even notice it until it was there. Why would Song…? <br/>“…Boss? It’s me. I…I can come back later, if you want?”, he shouted through the door. Maybe Song thought he didn’t notice? Hopefully. He had no idea what to say, and honestly, it was probably better not to say anything. Lucy had always been much better with words than him. <br/>There was shuffling at from the other side of the door, then Song’s voice. It was hoarser than MacCready remembered it to be. <br/>“…come in.” <br/>Slowly, he pushed the door open.</p>
<p>The room inside was dimly light by the early morning light that pushed through the blue curtains of the only window. It illuminated the vague contours of a sparsely furnished room, even by wasteland standards. There was bed, a nightside table and a dresser. A candle, half-burned already, sat on the table next to the deactivated pip-boy. <br/>On the bed, there sat Song. He was barely covered by the thin blanket and didn’t seem to be wearing anything. For once, MacCready wasn’t shocked into silence by that, because he focused on the way Song looked at him as he entered. <br/>Those grey eyes were completely empty. There was no hope, no amusement, not the tiniest spark of joy left. Nothing. Just cold, empty grey. Together with the way Song didn’t seem to do anything, his chest rising and falling slowly, it made him look like a synth. Or at least like what MacCready thought a synth looked like. A creature with a mind of metal, stuck in a human body. </p>
<p>“…Song, what… what’s wrong?”, MacCready asked after what felt like an eternity. The light had crept further and further into the room, nobody saying a word. <br/>Song opened his mouth, his face contorting in a myriad of different emotions. Anger, grief, despair, exasperation… but in the end, he only closed it again, not knowing what to say. He simply shook his head. <br/>MacCready felt like he should do something, but he had no idea what. So, he kept standing in the doorway like a useless fuc- idiot, not knowing how to react. <br/>“…I’ll be there in a few minutes, Creeds. I’m… sorry”, Song finally said, keeping his eyes on the ground. Shame crossed his face, as he waited for MacCready to leave. <br/>“Don’t be”, MacCready eventually mumbled, as he closed the door on his way out. Somehow going felt worse than staying, but Song clearly wanted him to go right now. Why did he even let him in in the first place? <br/>Going back to sitting on the couch in the living room, MacCready stared at the ceiling, the back of his head buried in the armrest. <br/>Why did Song cry? It wasn’t really MacCready’s business, but somehow he couldn’t leave it alone. He knew the man was hiding something, some sort of backstory, but he’d always believed Song was someone who’d done something he was proud of and had to flee from the consequences. Pissing off the wrong people. Freeing hundreds of slaves. Something like that. Nothing to cry about, just to run from. <br/>And then there was this weird insistence on not killing people, paired with Song’s insane skills that were clearly designed to do just that. MacCready had seen him kill mutants with just a knife. Cold, precise, nearly… surgical. <br/>MacCready sighed aloud. There more he thought about it, the surer he was. Song wasn’t running from anybody but himself. That man was fighting a whole different fight, against himself. And MacCready didn’t know sh-stuff about that. He’d lost his ages ago, when he decided to kill people for a few caps. </p>
<p>Someone gently cleared their throat, and MacCready quickly looked up. Song stood there immaculately dressed as always. He had one hand on the doorframe and was leaning against it awkwardly. <br/>“My apologies, I wasn’t sure if you’d heard me coming in or not”, he said, flashing a small grin at MacCready. Something about the way he eyed him was nearly weary, as if he was waiting for MacCready to start…something. MacCready had no idea what. <br/>“You know I never hear you, right? Pretty sure nobody does”, MacCready just said. If Song didn’t want to talk about it, he wouldn’t bring it up. Only fair, considering Song had done the exact same thing with the whole Lucy-situation. <br/>Song lit up almost immediately, his grin now real. Or at least a good enough façade that MacCready couldn’t tell the difference. <br/>“Well, then I’m doing it right, wouldn’t you agree?” <br/>“You don’t have to do it all the time though!” <br/>“Ah, but where would the fun in that be?” <br/>“With everyone else?”, MacCready proposed. <br/>“Hmm… not exactly where I would want it to be, so I’m afraid I have to decline.<br/>Speaking of fun, if I recall correctly, we wanted to make a few gunner’s lives a living hell?”, Song asked, his expression nearly mischievous. <br/>“I thought you’d never ask. What was the thing you wanted to pick up from here? I wouldn’t say no to a giant set of power armour, but knowing you that ain’t the case, right?”, MacCready asked.<br/>“Oh dear lord, no. How unsophisticated. What I have in mind, Creeds, is much more… fun.” <br/>“…care to elaborate?”, MacCready prodded, as Song made no attempt to clarify his slightly ominous exclamation. <br/>“I think it’s better to just show you. Follow me, please.” <br/>With that, Song turned and left the house. As they moved through the slowly awakening Sanctuary, MacCready’s mind flashed back to the fact that he hadn’t locked the door. Song could pretend all he wanted, that place wasn’t a home for him. For some reason, that was somehow the saddest thing MacCready had seen today. </p>
<p>Song’s ‘thing’ seemed to lead them to the outskirts of the settlement, where Song opened a rusty old hatch, ushering MacCready in with hasty gestures. Making sure nobody saw them, he followed promptly, closing the hatch behind him. Everything suddenly became dark, as the sun was blocked out.<br/>“I can’t see in the dark, you know that, right?”, MacCready asked into the darkness surrounding them. At this point, he wouldn’t be surprised if Song could actually see in total darkness and had simply forgotten MacCready couldn’t. <br/>“Yes, yes, I’m working on it. Now, where is this damn – ah!” Suddenly a green light went on, drenching their surroundings in a ghostly glow. They seemed to be in an old, concrete tunnel leading further into the earth. <br/>“A bunker?”, MacCready asked. <br/>“Something like it yes. I found it on accident. The poor fellow who used it didn’t radiation-proof it, though. I had to take care of the ghoul he’d become”, Song said, his voice rather sombre, as they ventured deeper. <br/>When they finally came to a halt, it was in front of a solid iron door with a complicated looking lock. <br/>Pulling his keys out of his pocket, Song opened the door, the pip-boy casting it’s ghastly light everywhere in flickering motions as Song unlocked the entrance. </p>
<p>As soon as the door was open, MacCready’s sharp ears could pick up the humming sound of a  generator, slowly getting to work. A few moments later, bright light flickered on, erasing the weaker green tint of the pip-boy. <br/>In front of them was a large concrete room, filled with all sorts of things. There were shelves filled with preserved pre-war food, workbenches, a few cabinets, even a bed. MacCready let out a low whistle as he took in everything that was stocked. <br/>“This dude was <i>prepared</i>”<br/>“Well, not enough, sadly. But good enough for me to use his supplies, and good god, he had quite a lot of them. Even a few weapons, and not the bad ones either. Which brings me to…” ,Song said, striding over to a large metal box. He proceeded to undo the two latches holding the lid in place, then he took something out of it. <br/>It looked like a metal gun, with a large, thin barrel and instead of a receiver, there was a gas-tank. A glass cartridge stuck out where a magazine should probably go. It was definitely the weirdest gun MacCready had ever seen, except for maybe the freaky radiation guns the children of atom had with them. </p>
<p>“Umm… Boss? What… is that?”, MacCready finally asked, after Song once again made no attempt to explain it to him. Instead he was rummaging around in the cabinets, looking increasingly irritated.<br/>“This, Creeds, is one of the best weapons in the whole Commonwealth. And even better for me, it is non-lethal…or at least it can be. If used correctly.” <br/>“That’s most weapons, Boss.” <br/>“Yes, but not like this. You see, with this little baby here, you can fire syringes. Full of chemicals. And let me tell you my friend, there are a <i>lot</i> of things you can do with chemicals”, Song said, still going through the cabinet’s drawers. Finally, he made a triumphant noise and hold up a single syringe that looked strangely durable. It was filled with a blood-red liquid that made MacCready distinctly…uneasy. <br/>“I still don’t really see how that helps us with the gunners, unless you can make all of them forget me?”, MacCready asked.<br/>“…now there’s an idea…”, Song mumbled to himself, “…but no. I can’t. I don’t need to use these on the gunners, not only, at least. My target is much more… dangerous. You’ll see.” <br/>“So you still won’t let me in on what you’re doing?” MacCready was more annoyed than angry at this point. Sure, Song may have his antics, but he delivered in the end. His encounter with the raiders showed that much, at least.<br/>“Oh no. That would ruin the surprise.” <br/>“I don’t know if I want what could be the most important mission in my life to be a ‘surprise’, Song”, MacCready said sharply. <br/>“The most...”, Song formed the words with his mouth, looking at MacCready quizzically. A flash of understanding passed his face and he slowly put the syringe aside. Then, he looked MacCready dead in the eye. <br/>“This isn’t really about the gunners at all, is it? They’re just standing in your way. You need to do something else, and with the way you’re acting… you want it done quickly”, Song concluded. <br/>“Wha- How. How do you know that?”<br/>“I’m good at reading people. Please don’t take this the wrong way, I won’t ask what that goal is. It’s just… I might need to be a bit more risky about things now.” <br/>“Wait, you mean you weren’t risky before?”, MacCready asked in disbelief. <br/>Song laughed a bit at that.<br/>“All right, all right. Maybe a little. But now, Creeds… now is when the true spectacle begins.” <br/>“That’s… a promise, all right. When to we head out?” <br/>A sigh fell from Song’s lips, as he rolled picked the discarded syringe back up and held it our for MacCready to inspect. <br/>“Do you see this? This is the only ammunition for it I have at this moment. So, when I said this is when it begins, I meant… this is when it starts to begin. Sort of. I need to hit up some contacts to get the chems I need in order for the syringer to be effective”, Song explained. “That might take a while.” </p>
<p>Later that day, MacCready was back in Song’s house, bored out of his mind. He couldn’t get drunk in the middle of the day, so he’d resigned to rummaging through Song’s stuff, who didn’t really seem to care. At the moment, his boss was gone to talk to some people. MacCready would’ve accompanied him of course, but Song told him to stay, since the people in question were shady, or something like that, MacCready didn’t really remember. <br/>At the moment, the mercenary was going through an old cupboard in one of the more empty rooms in the house. Opening one of the drawers, he felt a large grin spread over his face, as he caught sight of the faded colours of a comic-book. So, Song was a fan too, huh? <br/>Going over the issues, he didn’t just seem like a fan, he seemed to have collected a fair share of them too. MacCready had never read a few of them, and he loved comics. There were even a few issues of the earlier Grognak editions, MacCready noted with an impressed whistle. Sure, there were a few science magazines and weirdly, some U.S. covert operation manuals too, but most of the books were comics. </p>
<p>Flopping back down onto the couch, MacCready settled in for a nice day of reading, his rifle leaning forgotten against the wall. Next to him on the table stood an impressive tower of comics, which he meticulously arranged in the right order. <br/>It was getting rather late, the sun already setting, when he heard the front door open. Despite the fact that he didn’t hear footsteps, or rather because of it, he could give a pretty good guess as to who just entered. <br/>For a few seconds he had the weirdest desire to say ‘Welcome home’, but he just shook his head at the thought. Maybe he’d read a few too many issues of ‘Live &amp; Love’. So he liked a good romance now and then, sue him. <br/>“You like comic-books, then?”, Song asked, as he entered, discarding his jacket onto one of the chairs. <br/>“Yeah, always have. Got a big collection there, Boss. Are you a fan?”, MacCready asked. <br/>“Not really a <i>fan</i>, but I did read Grognak a fair bit. Whenever one came out”, Song smiled in nostalgia.<br/>“Bet it’s nice to know that some things survived, huh?”<br/>“It is. Though I’m always surprised what survived and what not. For example, I was sure Batman would survive, but apparently nobody ever heard of him. The Shroud, on the other hand…” <br/>“Not a big fan of the Shroud, not really. He’s just a dude with a machinegun and a fancy costume.” <br/>“Exactly! I don’t really see what’s so heroic about shooting down gangsters in an alley. In this world, people do it all the time, and they’re not lorded above us like some savours”, Song agreed enthusiastically. Then, he nudged MacCready’s feet of the armrest and sat down next to him.<br/>“That’s because they don’t have a fancy costume, I think”, MacCready joked a moment too late, but Song laughed anyway.<br/>“Maybe. Do you think I need a costume, Creeds?” <br/>“Nah. You’re like a legend already, I mean did you see Winlock and Barnes when you dropped your name? Also wearing clean suits in the Wasteland is kinda it’s own costume.” <br/>“I suppose it is… Oh, is that the ‘Blood on the Harp’ issue? I haven’t read that one in a long time…” <br/>“Lemme read it first, Mr. Impatient. Haven’t read this one at all.” <br/>“All right, all right. As long as you don’t take ages I can just look at one of the others”, Song finally gave up after trying to snatch the comic from MacCready’s hands for a few seconds. <br/>“No promises Boss. I’m not the quickest reader, you know?”, MacCready felt a cocky smirk playing around his lips. <br/>“Do you need me to read the book to you, poor little sniper?”, Song teased. MacCready felt his face light up, as he swatted the comic after Song, who merely laughed. </p>
<p>Once they’d settled in next to each other, each of them reading a comic in relative silence, MacCready remembered what Song had been doing.<br/>“So, did you get the chems you were looking for?”, he asked casually.<br/>“I did manage to put in an order. Unfortunately I had to cut a deal with Marowski’s people, unpleasant as they may be. They do have the chemicals I need. And they don’t go back on a deal, which is always nice to know.” <br/>MacCready pulled a face at the mention of Goodneighbor’s crime boss. Well, the other crime boss. MacCready wasn’t quite sure if Mayor Hancock counted as a politician, a junkie or another crime boss. A bit of everything, probably. <br/>“I know, I know. I would have liked to make a deal with literally anyone else – well, not the Institute maybe – but unfortunately I can’t. He has the chemicals and the people.” <br/>“…I’m, like, 80 percent sure you couldn’t <i>actually</i> have gone to the Institute for drugs, but you being you… I’m not entirely convinced you can’t either”, MacCready said after a short pause. <br/>“Why in the world would I have connections to the Institute, Creeds! Do I look like I’m made of metal?” <br/>“Well no, but… what the he- heck to I know? Maybe you’re their leader or something.” <br/>Song spluttered<br/>“Well, that would certainly make things easier. But no, I’m not. Also, just for the record, I’m still not sure if they even <i>exist</i>. I for one have never seen a synth. At least none that could be mistaken for a human.” <br/>“You’ve seen others, though? What are they like?” <br/>There was a slight pause, as Song collected himself. Then, he began to speak:<br/>“I’ve seen them, once. People made of metal and wires, a crude imitation of what a human should look like. They were carrying laser weapons, that they were all too happy to use on me.” <br/>“How… how’d you get away?” <br/>“Oh, I didn’t. They had not accounted for… well, <i>me</i>”, Song said, and this time his grin reminded MacCready of a Deathclaw’s glinting teeth. <br/>“Soo… did you… kill them, or what? Can they even be killed?”, MacCready asked tentatively. Previously, he’d only heard of synths from stories that got passed around too much to be of any real value, ghost stories probably made up by some very lonely people. But if Song had seen them, actually seen them, he might know more about this invisible threat that hung over the Commonwealth.<br/>“I certainly destroyed them, though I don’t know if I can even call that killing. A bit tougher than humans, sure but I didn’t need to hold back like I do with people.”<br/>“So they aren’t… immortal. Good.” <br/>“Creeds, apparently I’ve lived for over 200 years now. And I have never encountered anyone who was immortal. Most things are just harder to kill”, Song assured him. <br/>“…I don’t know if that’s really reassuring or not”, MacCready admitted. <br/>“Me neither. But hey, on the bright side. I don’t even try with most things. And as soon as we get those chemicals, killing will be the most boring option.”<br/>“The way you praise that thing is a bit creepy, Boss. Still not sure if I wouldn’t rather pick up a fatman an blow fucki-stupid camp to smithereens, if I’m being honest. Too bad those things are expensive.” <br/>“Well, we’ll see. Once I get the ammunition I need. I do need to go through a few settlements, collect some of my stashes, since those chemicals really aren’t cheap. Thankfully I even got a 1000 caps discount, which I consider – Creeds?” <br/>At the words ‘1000 caps discount’, MacCready had suddenly began coughing, as he’d choked on his own spit. <br/>“Sorry, did… did you just say… 1000 caps discount?”, he finally managed to get out between coughs, while Song was just idly patting his back. <br/>“Yes, I did. Why?” <br/>“Boss, how much did you pay for… these things?” <i> How much did you pay for me?</i><br/>“Oh, about… 9500 caps, I think?”, Song said, thinking for a second. “Maybe 10.000.” <br/>“I… Boss… I- why?” <br/>Song smiled at him. <br/>“Because I felt like it.” <br/>“You’re insane. Absolutely mad. What the actual fu-“ <br/>“-nope, no swearing, remember? It’s not just because of you, if that makes you feel better. I really do need those chemicals. Among them are stimpacks, Rad-X and RadAway for some of the settlers, and the syringer will come in handy for most things I do, so… I consider it more of an investment that coincided with your needs.” <br/>MacCready just shook his head. Song could sugar-coat it all he wanted, but he just spent a shi-bunchload of caps, just because MacCready asked for it. Somehow, that didn’t sit right with him. Not at all. <br/>As Song continued flipping through the pages of his comic like nothing happened, MacCready just stared at his. He didn’t know what to make of the queasy feeling in his stomach. Why did this… upset him? <br/>He’d never made a secret of the fact that his loyalty could be bought by whoever threw the most caps at him, so this shouldn’t come as a surprise to him. Song needed a mercenary, and if he needed to take care of a few problems first, that was fine. So… why? <br/>To Song, MacCready’s problems must feel unimportant. Something that he could easily solve. So he did, no big deal – at least to him. Still, it felt <i>wrong</i> somehow. Those caps were more than MacCready could ever hope to gain in… probably a lifetime, or something. <br/>It felt more and more like he owed a debt to Song, the longer he stayed at his side. The more he did for MacCready. <br/>Gritting his teeth, MacCready swore he’d repay it. No matter what he had to do. No matter how long it would take.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>It took me a bit longer than intended to get this chapter out, since I was coughing my lungs out unexpectedly. Thank fuck that's over with. </p>
<p>As always, I'd love some comments even if it's just a 'hi, this is certainly... a story...goodbye', since putting a chapter out always feels a bit like yelling into open space, in the sense that it's both uneventful and terrifying, and you have no idea who could be watching. </p>
<p>Have a great day, <br/>Adavago.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Of Storms and Stories</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <b> Of Storms and Stories</b>
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</div><i>MacCready</i><br/>Some time after, Song had excused himself to take a look at some of the settlement’s turrets, because of course he did. In addition to everything he was already, Song was apparently also an engineer.<br/>Slowly MacCready shook his head in disbelief. He’d never get over this man’s ridiculousness.<br/>He was sitting back in the Brief Respite, sipping a Nuka-Cola. Not having anything to do, as well as not having to worry about his imminent death was rare and MacCready found he didn’t really know what to do with himself. And he could only clean his weapon so many times.<p>Turned out he didn’t really have to worry about that. The settlers were welcoming enough, and soon he was involved in a game of cards with a few of them. Among the players was Lydia, the woman who first greeted MacCready and Song as they arrived. Her pokerface was airtight, and MacCready was sure she was cheating somehow, but he couldn’t prove it. At the end of the day, he’d lost enough caps that he quit playing. Instead, he just leaned back and watched the game unfold. </p>
<p>“MacCready, right?”, a voice startled him out of his thoughts. <br/>Turning to his left, he could see the man who’d eyed him so angrily, Preston Garvey. He seemed to have calmed down a bit by now, or he could hide it better.<br/>“That’s right. What do you want?”, MacCready asked wearily. This guy seemed to have a problem with him, though he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. <br/>“Can I sit?”, Preston answered instead, gesturing towards an empty seat next to MacCready, who just shrugged. Without further prompting, Preston sat down next to him. </p>
<p>“So, what’s the deal? Why do you hate me so much, huh?”, MacCready finally asked, since Preston didn’t look like he was starting the conversation anytime soon. <br/>“I know you”, Preston stated. <br/>MacCready took a deep sip, then he sat the bottle back down onto the table. <br/>“And? Plenty people know me, all right”, he said to buy time. He knew where this was going to go.<br/>“You’re with the gunners. A gun for hire, killing people for money”, Preston spat. <br/>“First off all, a lot of people do that”, MacCready defended himself. Eying Preston’s uniform, he said: “You’re with the minutemen, right? Not everyone can afford a conscience, ever thought about that?” <br/>“Oh please. There are ways of making money that don’t involve killing innocent people!” <br/>“What do you think I’m doing right now?” <br/>“I don’t know. But I’m going to find out. I won’t let you hurt Song”, Preston declared. <br/>MacCready laughed and took another sip. The thought was absurd. <br/>“What’s so funny, mercenary?”, Preston demanded to know, eyes gleaming. <br/>“The fact that you think I’d hurt him. That man is the best dam- dang thing that happened to me in a long time, no way I’d try to hurt him”, MacCready said calmly.<br/>“Sure you won’t. Until he’s exceeded his usefulness. I know you people, I know how you think. You’re just using him.” <br/>MacCready pushed his chair back and slammed a fist on the table. <br/>“You know what? Fu- screw you! I’m not even with them anymore, so whatever problem you have with them, go and harass someone else. I don’t think like that! You have no idea what it means to need something so goddang much, you’d do almost anything for it, do you? All you care about is running around in your stupid uniforms, pretending to help people!”, MacCready yelled.<br/>The entire pub fell silent, save for the gentle thrusts from Codsworth’s jet engine. All eyes had shifted from the game to the two men yelling at each other. <br/>Preston visibly pulled himself together and took a deep breath. MacCready was still half out of his chair, staring him dead in the eye. <br/>“I didn’t know you are not with them any longer. Still, I was in Quincy. I know what people like you, who care only about money can do. Just because you found another more lucrative opportunity, doesn’t mean you’re not like them anymore. Maybe a bit smarter, sure, but that’s it. Just another mercenary.” <br/>“That’s what you think, huh?”, MacCready asked, threateningly calm. Surprise coloured Preson’s features for just a second, before he answered.<br/>“Yes, that’s what I think.” <br/>“Guess I’ll just have to prove you wrong then, huh? Song chose me to come with him. I already said I was gonna pay my debt to him, so I’m going to do it. Maybe then you’ll believe me, that I don’t think he’s just an opportunity”, MacCready said. Then, he finished the bottle. <br/>Preston seemed slightly taken aback, but he didn’t back down. He simply cast a suspecting glance at MacCready that was equal parts doubt and thoughtful, as he said:<br/>“We’ll just have to see then. I would be too happy to admit I was wrong. Still, I’m going to talk to the general about you.” <br/>With that, he stood up walked out of the door, MacCready staring after him. <br/>Slowly the pub returned to it’s normal buzz, though most people avoided to look at MacCready directly. Knowing he wasn’t welcome at the moment, he made his way back to Song’s house. Maybe he’d have an update on the situation, or something to do. MacCready was starting to go stir-crazy, and it was much easier shooting something in the head than talking to it. <br/>Another thing that made Song special, he supposed. Song didn’t just shoot things in the head when they annoyed him. That was rare these days. </p>
<p>High up in one of the watchtowers, MacCready finally found Song, who was currently elbow-deep inside a turret, wielding a screwdriver and his pip-boy, which was plugged into the turret’s interface.<br/>“Oh, hello Creeds! Do try not to walk in front of this turret’s optical sensor, I’m rather sure it would shoot you in it’s current state. What can I do for you?”, Song chirped, once he saw the mercenary emerge from the stairs. <br/>“I was just wondering where you are… what are you doing?”, MacCready asked after a short pause, eying the turret wearily. <br/>“Right now? Fixing this stubborn thing, that absolutely refuses to shoot at the right people. Gave one of our provisioners a right scare, this one.”<br/>“No, I can see what you’re doing, I mean… in general. What’s the plan, Boss?” <br/>“Oh. Yes, that. So, I was thinking we could rest one more day and then go on a little side-op, while we make our trip to Goodneighbor. As it turns out, there’s a little settlement spot, currently occupied by raiders, that I can take care of.” <br/>“Wait, ‘take care of’? What do you mean?”, MacCready asked. Since Song couldn’t kill them, he didn’t really see how Song could ‘take care of them’ as easily as he made it out to be.<br/>The turret gave of a series of beeping noises, and Song cursed under his breath. Frantically fidgeting with the pip-boy, he replied:<br/>“Well, ‘take care of’ doesn’t <i>need</i> to mean kill. There are various ways to remove those raiders without having to murder them. It’s mostly how -fucking hell, this turret can go and – well, anyway. It’s mostly about the way you try to do it. Sometimes fear takes care of some raiders far more effectively than murder would.” <br/>“But how? Wouldn’t killing them be easier? What’s more long-lasting then making sure these people never shoot someone innocent again?” <br/>Song gave MacCready a pointed look. <br/>“A surprising notion, especially coming from you Creeds. What <i>is</i> more effective than just removing people from the equation?” <br/>“I hate it when you do that”, MacCready groaned. As the look continued, he sighed. <br/>“Fine, fine. Lemme think… convincing them to become decent people?”<br/>“Aaaand we have got ourselves a winner! Correct.” <br/>“They’re raiders! You can’t expect these people to live a peaceful life, that’s absurd”, MacCready argued. <br/>“I’ve got another question for you: What drives a normal person to become a raider?”, Song asked.<br/>“…they need something”, MacCready admitted reluctantly. He couldn’t picture any other reason why someone normal would do…that.<br/>“Yes. Whether it be protection, food, camaraderie, or even just a purpose. If you give them this, they’ll see reason.”<br/>“We’re talking about people who skin other people alive, just ‘cause they can.” <br/>“…admittedly, it doesn’t work with everyone, yes. Thankfully that problem… solves itself, once enough people see reason”, Song conceded. MacCready stared at him.<br/>“You let them kill each other?” <br/>“Sometimes, yes”, Song admitted, as the turret gave of a series of beeping noises and reactivated itself. Song unplugged the pip-boy and gave MacCready a suffering look. </p>
<p>“I know, I know. It’s not the ideal, and I’m working around my promise here, but the important thing is I try to minimize the casualties. Some people really don’t see reason, and if it were up to me, I’d kill at least a few of them. But it isn’t.” <br/>“Bullsh- Bullcrap! It’s your promise, so it is up to you”, MacCready protested, but Song shook his head.<br/>“I can’t take that promise back. The person I gave it to is dead”, he said. <br/>“I’m… sorry about that. But as you said… they’re dead. They can’t see you anymore. It doesn’t matter”, MacCready tried to convince him. <br/>“That’s not what counts. I gave a promise, which means I’m bound by my word. This person… they were very dear to me. I wouldn’t break a promise I gave them. Not for anything in the world”, Song whispered.<br/>Something in the way Song said this made MacCready pause. It was clear Song wouldn’t budge on this one, and MacCready wasn’t one to waste his breath. <br/>“Can we… can we just do this my way? Please?”, Song pleaded, looking up at MacCready from where he was still crouched on the ground. <br/>“…you’re the Boss. For the record, I think it’s stupid. But we’ll do it your way.” <br/>“Thank you.”<br/>MacCready had the feeling, had he really not wanted to do this, Song would’ve let him. And for some reason, that unsettled him most of all. </p>
<p>“What’s our destination?”, MacCready asked instead of any of the things he’d have liked to say. He’d need to think about those later.<br/>Song blinked, apparently surprised. <br/>“We’re going to Goodneighbor.” <br/>“I know, I meant the route we’re taking.” <br/>“Oh. We’re going to travel via Tenpine’s bluff, take a short detour to the Zimonja outpost, and then go south till we reach Goodneighbor.” <br/>“Isn’t Zimonja one you cleared before?” <br/>“Yeah, but it… refilled.” <br/>“It… refilled?” <br/>“Yeah. Raiders are like pests, always popping up when you least expect them to”, Song explained.<br/>“Wouldn’t have happened if you killed them”, MacCread couldn’t help but pipe up, to which Song rolled his eyes.<br/>“I’m pretty sure they’re not the same raiders. Swooped in and killed the ones that had given up their life of crime.” <br/>“Tragic”, MacCready deadpanned, “all those people they skinned might’ve been pretty happy about that, though.” <br/>“Maybe. Anyways, I didn’t kill them, and still there’s a problem at the outpost, so… nothing’s solved. Let’s get moving, shall we?”</p>
<p>It took the two of them the better part of the day to prepare, so they decided to stay in Sanctuary one more night. At the end of the day, they could be found in Song’s living room, still reading comics to each other, exchanging their favourite parts of the stories they’d both read as a child, until Song finally saw reason at around 11 o’clock and went to bed. MacCready was left to debate if he should crash on the couch or not, which he ultimately decided against. He had a perfectly working bed at the Brief Respite, there was no reason to use Song’s couch instead, that didn’t have to do with MacCready being an idiot. <br/>Absurdly early in the morning, mere minutes after the sun had risen, MacCready was woken by an enigmatic Song, who seemed eager to get back on the road, practically radiating a giddy energy. It was something MacCready shared, although he didn’t show it as openly as Song, who was grinning so hard, it practically split his face in half. <br/>Sanctuary was nice, but neither MacCready or Song were made for the quiet life, at least not when they had something to do. And it would be long time until either of them would finish what they wanted to do. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sometimes disaster was loud. The detonation of an nuclear warhead. The loud crack of a gunshot. The breaking of bones, the roaring of flames. <br/>This time, it was quiet. There was no loud harbinger of destruction, no flash or bang that either of them could have seen, much less interpreted as a sign of impending doom. <br/>The sky had darkened, much in the way that it normally did, when the day turned into night. Much too late, MacCready had truly taken the time to look up at the sky. Then, he recognised the heavy clouds ahead, tinted with that sickly yellowish green that was so familiar to anyone traversing the wastes. <br/>Nervously MacCready glanced towards Song, who was still merrily walking along his path, apparently oblivious to the danger. <br/>“Song”, MacCready called out softly, to which Song turned around. <br/>“What’s up?”<br/>“Yeah Boss, that’s the problem”, MacCready said, pointing a finger into the sky. <br/>Song glanced up and paled visibly. <br/>“Shit”, he murmured, “I didn’t notice. We need to find somewhere to take shelter. I think I know a place, but we won’t make it in time.” <br/>“Please tell me we’ve at least got enough Rad-X or Rad-Away to survive?”, MacCready asked. The pained look on Song’s face was all he needed to know, even before Song showed MacCready the single dose of Rad-Away they were left with. With effort he stopped himself from cursing wildly and simply gestured for Song to go ahead. This time, the two of them went at a far greater pace than before. </p>
<p>Above them the clouds only darkened, blocking out the last bit of the setting sun’s light. The wasteland was tinted in thick, yellow light, that made everything seem sickly and dead. What few plants had regrown since the bombs fell had their leaves violently shaken with an unrelenting wind. The dust and dirt it brought caused MacCready to wrap his scarf around his mouth, while Song couldn’t do anything against the unrelenting onslaught. Ever so often, he started coughing, a raspy, violent cough. But he never stopped. <br/>“Do you want me to give you one of my spare shirts?”, MacCready yelled against the wind, that tried to carry his voice away. Song turned his head toward MacCready, his hair dirty and windswept, as he frowned. <br/>“Why? I don’t need a new shirt right now, Creeds, I need shelter!”, he yelled back. MacCready sighed.<br/>“…you need to use it as a scarf, or do you <i>want</i> to eat dirt?!”<br/>Song shot him a surprised look, then he accepted the shirt MacCready handed to him and wrapped it around his head. <br/>“Thanks!” His yelling was now even more inaudible, muffled and carried away by the storm.<br/>It was at that moment, that the first bolt of lightning lit up the sky. And with a roaring thunder that seemed to shake the earth, heavy rain pelted down on both of them. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It took the two of them far too long to reach the little wooden cabin that Song had referred to as ‘shelter’, if it even deserved that name. <br/>All the while, they were exposed to the thick droplets of rain, that carried far more than just water, as they rushed through the unpredictable wasteland of the Commonwealth. They had stopped caring if anybody saw them, as even creatures immune to radiation would think twice before going out in a storm this heavy. The pip-boy on Song’s arm made increasingly more worrying ticking noises, the longer they went on, indicating high levels of radiation. </p>
<p>“Finally!”, Song shouted, as they reached the cabin’s door, which he opened with a flourish. Immediately a loud snarling could be heard, as the hideously mutated form of a feral ghoul lumbered to it’s feet, it’s pale teeth flashing at Song. <br/>MacCready didn’t even have time to shout, before Song grabbed the thing by the throat. <br/>“Oh no, you don’t”, he said through gritted teeth, as the feral tried to scratch him with it’s nails. He quickly manhandled it outside, then brought it to the ground, where he held it’s head steady. MacCready’s rifle did the rest. <br/>As it turned out, the feral ghoul had been the cabin’s only inhabitant. Apart from it, there was a single mattress on the floor, which was covered in leaves. In the corner, there was a chemistry station, equipped with all kinds of tools and glass containers, as well as one empty metal shelve. </p>
<p>MacCready slammed the door behind him, his whole body shivering. A quick glance at Song confirmed that he wasn’t doing much better, though the pip-boy’s ticking had come down to a minimum. His suit was entirely ruined, wet and dirty from the journey, and Song himself also wasn’t looking well. MacCready wasn’t sure, but he seemed to be paler than usual. <br/>“Creeds, are you well? Or at least… all right?”, Song asked, and it took MacCready several seconds to respond. Everything was…weird, his head felt like it was filled with cotton. At the same time he hurt all over, with a bone-deep aching that didn’t seem to come from anywhere in particular but was there nonetheless. <br/>“I’m… fine boss. You…you look a bit worse for wear, though”, MacCready said, slurring a bit. After a moment’s consideration, he added: “…might be a bit radsick. Nothin’ I didn’t have before, it’s fine, it’s fine. I’m good.” <br/>“Creeds, you don’t <i>look</i> good, to be entirely honest with you”, Song remarked, as he pulled out the blankets they’d taken on the journey. <br/>“I’m fine”, MacCready insisted, even as a particularly cold shiver passed him. Song patted the mattress next to him and MacCready sat down. Maybe there was a bit more falling than planned, but it got him to where he needed to be. Immediately, Song began wrapping them in the blankets.<br/>“I must apologize, this is a bit more… intimate… than you’d prefer, I’m sure, but we need to make sure not to catch hypothermia, and body heat is an excellent source of warmth”, Song continued talking rapidly, whilst MacCready stared at him. His legs felt kinda weak, but he was sure that’s just because of Song and his…. Song… ness. Yeah. <br/>“This is good, I don’t… I don’t mind. It’s warm”, MacCready said, sounding thoughtful.<br/>“I…I really don’t think you’re well, Creeds. I’m afraid I have to insist you must take the Rad-Away we have. I seem to be mostly well, I think, but you look like you’re on the brink of death.” <br/>“I’m not… I’m not! I’m good, you take it. I’ve done this before, you don’t, you should get the chem”, MacCready insisted, but Song only frowned. <br/>“Actually…” Song began undoing the clasps on his pip-boy, making MacCready furrow his brows. What was Song up to now?<br/>Suddenly Song grasped his hand underneath the blanket, and MacCready wasn’t concerned with the pip-boy anymore. It’d been so long since he’d done anything like this, he… he was allowed to enjoy this. And Song had been right, body heat <i>was</i> warm. Until Song brought both of their hands and arms out from underneath the blanket cover.<br/>“What are you doing?”, MacCready asked confused, until the Song affixed the pip-boy to his arm. Immediately, it began beeping, and some kind of bar filled almost all the way with red. Song sucked a breath between his teeth and immediately grabbed the rad-Away bottle from his pocket.<br/>“I told, you I’m-“, MacCready began to protest, but Song interrupted him urgently.<br/>“Creeds, you are everything but fine. You’re on the brink of dying, and if you don’t get these <i>right now</i>, you will perish. If you don’t want to die, out here, in the middle of nowhere, because I didn’t…”, Song’s voice broke marginally, “…because I didn’t fucking notice a storm, please take the bloody thing. I do not want you to die”, he said. Then, he fell into a whisper, once more repeating: <br/>“I don’t want you to die.” <br/>MacCready nodded, overwhelmed by everything. His head wasn’t clear, and he didn’t know what was going on exactly, but Song wanted him to do this thing, so he’d do it. Carefully, he took the tiny pill he was handed, and swallowed it. Immediately afterwards, Song handed him a can of purified water, which he also drank. Soon, a blissful sleep encompassed him. The last thing he remembered was Song’s hand in his. He had never let it go. MacCready didn’t really find it in him to regret that, consequences be dam- ignored. </p>
<p>Once MacCready woke from his slumber, he felt considerably better. The time between him noticing the storm and him waking up was blurry at best, but he did remember some things. He was fairly certain he shot a feral, and looking around the cabin, he could confirm they’d made it to shelter. <br/>The weight on his shoulder, and the warmth holding onto his hand also confirmed the other thing MacCready could still remember. <br/>Turning his head, he could see Song, gently resting beside him, leaning on him for support. Illuminated by only the shine of an old lamp, standing on the chemistry station, Song looked awfully pale. He was sleeping and hadn’t even stirred yet. Still, the thing that struck MacCready most about him was the same he noticed when he’d first looked at Song. Even if his suit was filthy, his hair caked with dirt and most of him was hidden behind a thin blanket… he was beautiful. Not in an eerie, otherworldly kind of way, but in a way that was physically <i>there</i>, that gave him something to hold onto. <br/>Outside, the storm raged on, though MacCready didn’t know if it was a radstorm, or just a normal one at this point. Carefully, he moved his arm and stole a glance at the pip-boy. There still seemed to be a very low level of radiation, though nothing they should worry about. At least not in the cabin. <br/>Not knowing what to do, and not really able to do much without waking Song, MacCready went through the bags and took notice of their gear.  At least there was enough to eat and drink. They had two stimpacks left, as well as one regular first-aid kit, which should be enough, unless they decided to take on a major battle before reaching Tenpine’s Bluff. </p>
<p>At this point, Song made a noise that drew MacCready’s attention to him, halfway between a whimper and a sigh. He could see the other man barely poking out from the blanket, which Song had wrapped tightly around himself. <br/>“Morning boss. Feeling alright?”, MacCready greeted. <br/>“I…Good morning, Creeds. I’m…I don’t…”, Song tried to say something, but he didn’t seem able to find his words. After trying for a bit, he simply gave up and leaned back against the mercenary.<br/>MacCready was giving him a concerned look. It was only now that he noticed the sheen of sweat on Song’s forehead, as well as the fact that Song really was pale. Awfully pale, in a way that wasn’t healthy. <br/>“..Boss. You’re sick.” <br/>“Ever observant, I see”, Song managed to muster a weak retort.<br/>“It’s rad sickness, isn’t it? Sh-Dang, you gave the last RadAway to me!”, MacCready realised aloud. Song merely chuckled. <br/>“I…I’m sure you’ll deal with it…perfectly”, he said weakly, finally returning his head to MacCready’s shoulder. Then, he closed his eyes. <br/>“I don’t think you should do that, boss. Both of it, I mean, ‘cause trusting me to do that is a terrible decision, honestly, but you <i>really</i> shouldn’t go back to sleep now.”<br/>Song merely gave a little whine, which was the only response. At least until MacCready began gently shaking him.<br/>“Come on, come on. You need to stay awake, you hear me? Keep your eyes open, for fu-the love of god”, MacCready chanted, as he shook him. Finally, Song opened his eyes again, barely enough to see. <br/>“Don’t really like him that much, to be honest”, he murmured, but MacCready wasn’t paying attention. He was too busy getting the pip-boy back onto Song, which revealed his condition. According to the device, he wasn’t likely to die unless he was exposed to any more radiation, but the symptoms of rad sickness were worse enough on their own. </p>
<p>“What’s the…diagnosis, doc?”, Song jokingly asked, still looking at MacCready through half-lidded eyes. <br/>“It’s not good, boss. This is serious”, MacCready insisted, showing the pip-boy to Song, who merely shook his head and chuckled. <br/>“I don’t think… I’m going to die. At least… not today. I’ve so much…so much to do, I don’t think I can…afford it”, Song said with a weird kind of amused certainty to his voice, which was shadowed by an overwhelming sadness. <br/>“That’s good, but you need to stay awake, you hear me? Unless you do that, there’s nothing left for you to do!”<br/>“It’s… difficult.” <br/>“How can I help? I’d give you a nuka-cola to stay awake, but somehow I don’t think more rads are what you need right now.” <br/>“No, I need… a distraction. Can you… can you tell me a story, Creeds?”, Song requested, looking far too vulnerable underneath the tattered blanket. <br/>“A…story?” MacCready stared at Song, who was looking at him earnestly. Then, he sighed. <br/>“Sure. I’ll tell you a story. It’s about time I told you anyway, and it’s not like we’ve anything better to do, so here we go… I guess.” <br/>MacCready took a deep breath, and began to speak:<br/>“I grew up in a place called Little Lamplight. It was children only, no adults allowed. Tough, but we made it work. I was even mayor, for a while, but then… I needed to go. <br/>There was this girl, Lucy, who was… beautiful. Too beautiful, to be honest, way out of my league…” <br/>Song gave a small noise, that MacCready didn’t know how to interpret. Looking at Song, the latter only shook his head. Then, he gave a small squeeze to MacCready’s hand, as a sign to continue.<br/>“…anyway, for some reason she liked me, and I obviously liked her. So, we both went out into the waste. We found a town later on, and life was good. I made a living… even though I never had the guts to tell her what I really did. Told her I was a soldier. <br/>We had a son, a little boy named Duncan. We were so… so happy. But then…” MacCready paused and quieted down. Staring at the wall for a long time, he then decided to continue:<br/>“Then Lucy died. It was an accident. I thought it was a good idea to camp out in an old subway tunnel, and… it was stock-full of ferals. I barely made it out alive, with Duncan thrown over my shoulder.” <br/>MacCready’s voice turned a grief-filled whisper, and once again, he could see the scenes from that horrible night right in front of him. <br/>“I… I could <i>hear</i> everything that happened behind me. Every. Last. Thing. I couldn’t… I couldn’t help her. I needed to Duncan out of there, or else he…” MacCready’s voice broke and he stopped talking. His eyes were wet, and he barely stopped himself from crying. <br/>Song didn’t say anything. MacCready didn’t know if that was because he simply didn’t have anything to say, or because he was so ill, he couldn’t respond properly. Be that as it was, Song’s grip around his hand tightened, and yet it was soft. Apologetic, gentle. It said so many things without Song even opening his mouth, that MacCready couldn’t keep a grip. Slowly, tears started dripping down his cheeks, but he pretended not to notice them. <br/>After a while, he noticed Song was trying to say something, an inaudible muttering reaching his ears. Carefully, he leaned in, closer to Song. <br/>“It’s… It’s okay being sad”, Song simply repeated MacCready’s own words back at him. And somehow, that was enough. Nothing profound. No great speech. But they understood each other. </p>
<p>“I’d like to tell you something too”, Song said after along while, in which he’d seemed to be gathering strength. MacCready remembered what Song did, when he was intoxicated, and returned to the favour. <br/>“You don’t need to. Especially when you’re like this”, he said, gesturing towards Song, who just chuckled a little. <br/>“My head is clear… mostly. And I’d really like to. It’s been a secret for… too long now.” <br/>“All right. If that’s what you want too…shoot. I’m all yours.” <br/>“…phrasing”, Song muttered, but he was soon back to serious, as he began explaining:<br/>“So, you know I’m… not from here. That I am in fact…200 years old. Probably older. I was frozen, in a vault. Me, my wife Nora, our son Shaun and… a whole lot of other people.” <br/>MacCready couldn’t help but let his face betray his surprise. <i>Song has a wife?</i>, he thought, but he didn’t interrupt the story. Song didn’t seem to have noticed, which told MacCready a lot about how sick he must be.<br/>“Most of them are dead now, my… Nora included. People came, like…raiders. But worse. Some kind of mercenaries, I think. And people in hazmat suits. Scientists, maybe. They… they took Shaun. Nora…”, Song paused for a second, staring at something that was definitely far, far away from their tiny cabin. <br/>“…my sweet, brave angle. She tried to fight them, but she was… weak. The ice had made her weak, and she was confused, and probably… probably afraid, but they… they shot her. The greatest woman I’ve ever met, and they shot her.” <br/>Song paused again, his breaths longs and heavy. MacCready didn’t know what to do, but he put his other hand on Song’s back, gently trying to comfort him, somehow. <br/>“She… sure sounds like something”, MacCready tried to say something, anything to distract Song from whatever dark place his mind was in right now. And sure enough, it seemed to work. A smile, ever so little, but definitely there lit up Song’s face.<br/>“Oh, she was. A better fighter than me, even now. We got in each other’s way so very often, before we married. The way we danced, the way we <i>fought</i>… it was glorious. Countries didn’t mean anything to us, not anymore. Who cared which government sent us to spy on whom? Who cared, when we could maneuver, outmaneuver each other again, and again, in our own little game?” Song sighed happily, his face betraying memories of better times.<br/>“She was so <i>alive</i>, Creeds, she really was. Being with her was like being at the heart of an inferno, and I loved every second of it.” <br/>“I…don’t understand. You fought each other?”, MacCready tried to understand what Song had said.<br/>“Oh, we did. But in the end, we were too good for them. We got them to lay off, unless they wanted all their dirty little secrets exposed. We found each other, in the middle of war. It was…a miracle. We could finally, <i>finally</i> live in peace. No more people hurt, no more secrets, no more… no more killing…or so we thought.” Song’s expression turned sour. <br/>“I woke once more, free from the cryo-chamber, and I found her dead. I swore I’d kill but once more. Hear me now, Creeds, hear me: I am going to <i>eviscerate</i> the bastard who killed her. And then, I’m going to get back my son. And I will mourn her for as long as I will live, but her legacy, her dream will not die with her, you hear me?”, Song all but shouted at the end, his hand tightening it’s grip as hard as a pitifully sick body could muster. <br/>“You’ll find him”, MacCready assured after a long while. Then, quieter, he added: “We’ll find him. We’ll make him pay.” </p>
<p>It took the storm hours to calm down into a light drizzle of non irradiated rain. These hours were filled with the two of them, sitting next to each other in the little hut. At some point they must’ve eaten, but to MacCready time felt weird, afterwards. Surely, they must have talked at some point, but anything they said became the soft lull of pleasant conversation. The kind that didn’t really say anything, that just assured you there was someone else here. That you weren’t alone. <br/>MacCready only remembered noticing the pip-boy’s silence at some point. Carefully, he’d checked outside, but the danger of radiation-heavy weather had passed, for now. This only made things a little bit easier though, as Song was in terrible condition. He seemed barely able to walk, let alone carry things. There was no way he’d make it to Tenpine’s Bluff alive. So, MacCready made a decision. <br/>“Song”, he said gently, waking the other from the pleasant slumber he’d fallen into as soon as MacCready made sure he wouldn’t die immediately. <br/>“Yeah?” <br/>“The storm’s stopped.” <br/>“…good. I’ll be… I’ll be up in just a few… minutes. Let me get my bearings, then I’ll…I’ll be ready”, Song barely strung together.<br/>“You can’t travel like this. You’d die. Fat chance that I’m going to let that happen, after you made me take the last dang radAway”, MacCready replied. Song chuckled a bit. <br/>“Still not… regretting that, by the by”, Song weakly said, and MacCready just shook his head in exasperation. <br/>“You’re… unbelievable, you know that?” <br/>“I’ve… been told… So, what’s the plan, Creeds?” <br/>“I’m going to go to Tenpine’s Bluff, where they’d better have some radAway, and get it. Then, I’m coming back. You’re going to stay here, and you’re not going to die, you hear me?” <br/>“…I’ll try”, Song said resigned. <br/>“I like this just as much as you, but that’s the only option”, MacCready said. Then, he grabbed the 10mm pistol and shoved it in Song’s hands. <br/>“Take that. I don’t care about your promise, you hear me? If someone comes in here that’s not me, you shoot them! I don’t want to make my way back, only to find some random raider killed you”, MacCready pleaded, but Song meekly shook his head. <br/>“I…can’t do that. Sometimes we…I… need to decide if we’re worth more than our word. And I’m not.” <br/>“Fu-Dam-…argh, why do you need make this difficult? I’m trying to save you, you…stubborn idiot”, MacCready cursed in response, which elicited a small smile from Song. He reached out towards MacCready and weekly touched his shoulder. <br/>“Have I… let you down, even once? I’ll survive. I promise”, Song whispered. <br/>“You better. If you don’t I’ll find you once I’m dead, and I’m going to kick you”, MacCready muttered darkly. Then, he grasped Song’s hand, fully prepared to just take it from his shoulder, but somehow it turned into a gentle squeeze. For a moment, the both of them simply sat there, not knowing what to do. <br/>Then, MacCready, already feeling the heat creep up his face, took his hand away and stood up. <br/>“I’d better get going. Don’t die.” <br/>And with that, he fled the cabin, securing the door as best he could.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>It took me a bit longer to finish this one than I anticipated, but thankfully I've got more time on my hands now.<br/>IF I can get my ass of the floor for like 5 seconds, that hopefully means a bit more writing, which in turn means more chapters! Hussa! </p>
<p>Anyways, if you liked this one, please do the usual shabang, and remember: I do love comments, even if they just say how you ran into a lamppost while reading this or something. Or just a hallo, I'm not picky.<br/>Until next time,<br/>Adavago.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. A Lesson in Kindness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <b>A Lesson in Kindness</b>
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</div><i>MacCready</i><br/>During his hasty venture through the annoying drizzle, MacCready found himself occupied with one thought. What if Song was already dead? What if everything he did was just to come back and find out Song’s been dead the entire time? Would it be his fault?<br/>Gritting his teeth, MacCready tried to shake the thought out of his head. He’d done everything he could, no way Song would die now. The bast-idiot was way too stubborn. He’d survive just to spite fate. Right now, MacCready needed to focus on getting to that settlement as fast as he could – without dying, hopefully – and get that medicine to Song.<p>Holding his rifle in an iron grip, MacCready’s keen eyes searched his surrounds for any threat, again and again. He couldn’t let anything get the drop on him, this was too important. <br/>A faint noise caught his attention, some kind of barking. Far away, for now, but… it came from the direction he was headed. <br/>Wasteland dogs were vicious, and often travelled in packs. Even if he was careful, there was a chance they could sneak up on him, especially in this kind of weather. Even worse, some of them were tough enough that they could probably take him without even having to use stealth at all. <br/>For a moment MacCready considered going around where he thought the pack to be. It would take longer, yes, but his chances of survival were better… then again, the wasteland harboured many dangers, and even though he spotted this one, he might as well be walking into the arms of some other if he evaded the dogs. And… even if his chances of surviving would be higher if he’d went around the dogs, with every second that went by, Song’s were getting lower and lower. He needed to do this… and he needed to do it as quickly as possible. </p>
<p>Carefully, but still far quicker than he’d normally go, MacCready continued. As he approached a small hilltop, he could see a subsidence behind it, in which someone had dumped a whole lot of garbage. MacCread could spot a car-wreck, a broken fridge, the carcass of some ancient machine… and amidst all of these things, he spotted no less than 4 dogs, big mutts, who were thin enough that MacCready could see their muscles rippling beneath their scar-littered skin. The biggest of them, a grey-furred mutt that nearly reached MacCready’s size, lifted it’s head up into the air. Then, it whipped around, and the sniper swore it stared him directly in the eye, as it gave of a loud barking. <br/>“Sh…Dang it!”, MacCready cursed, before lifting his rifle. <br/>The first shot hit the pack-leader’s head, which splattered. The other dogs weren’t deterred, however, as they started to run at MacCready in full speed. <br/>He could feel his heart beating in hard, fast beats, as his clammy finger curled around the trigger once more. Another shot rang, another hound fell. They were down to two now, and had nearly reached him. <br/>Rapidly reloading, MacCready repositioned his rifle. One breath, in, out and – Bang. Only one dog remained, as the body of his dead comrade hit the floor. The beast simply jumped over it’s fallen kin and continued it’s rapid approach. <br/>Hastily, MacCready tried to reposition his rifle, but it was too late. The dog had caught up to him and pounced. In a desperate attempt to shield himself, MacCready grasped his rifle and thrust it towards the beast, who chomped down on it, it’s gleaming teeth slamming into the cold metal. MacCready lost his footing due to the pure force behind the attack, and fell on his back, the dog quickly following, still trying to rip out MacCready’s throat, who couldn’t do anything but keep his grip on the rifle, pushing back against the beast. <br/>The hound snarled, a feral, wild sound, as it tried to get around the rifle, but still it’s teeth were firmly clasped around the gun. Saliva dripped onto MacCready, who desperately pushed, trying to get the dog off of him, but the beast wouldn’t budge. <br/>In a last-ditch attempt, MacCready rolled, bringing the hound beneath him. He could feel the beast’s claws digging deep into his duster, which protected him from the worst of it. He hissed, as he felt the sharp things pierce into him, most likely drawing blood, but most of his concentration was still on trying to keep the dog down. Using the gun like a simple stick, he pressed down, harder and harder, as the dog tried to wriggle free. Inch by inch, MacCready pressed the weapon down, until he exerted pressure directly onto the dog’s jaw. Still, he didn’t stop, applying more and more force to his push, paying no mind to the hound’s claws flailing against him. The hound gave one last howl, a pitiful, whimpering thing, and then- a crack could be heard, as something broke deep within the assailant. The dog’s body went slack beneath MacCready, who breathed heavily. <br/>Groaning, he stood up, checking himself for any injuries, which he didn’t seem to have. Quickly, he reloaded his rifle and wiped most of the drool from it with his duster. It wasn’t pretty, but it would do. <br/>Then, he continued on his way, knowing that every second wasted could be the second Song needed to survive. </p>
<p>Once he finally arrived at the settlement – two small sheds and the broken foundation of what might’ve once been a house – he was greeted by two people, a man and a woman, pointing their shotguns at him. A turret to his left also took aim, but didn’t shoot yet, which gave MacCready at least some hope. Immediately, he dropped the rifle. If these people were minutemen, he hoped they wouldn’t just shoot him on a whim.<br/>“Who are you and what do you want?”, the man belted, his voice as rough as his calloused hands around the shotgun. <br/>“MacCready’s the name, I need your help!”<br/>“Don’t have any, don’t wanna help. Piss off!” <br/>“Not for me, for the general. You…You’re with the minutemen, right?” <br/>At this, the woman lowered her shotgun completely, and the black-haired man didn’t seem as likely to immediately shoot MacCready as he’d been previously.<br/>“Yeah, what of it? What kinda help does the general – so you say - need from people like us? We’re just farmers, and damn good ones at that. Unless he’s very hungry, there ain’t nothing we can do”, he said, still eying MacCready wearily.<br/> “He’s sick! He needs radAway, as soon as possible”, MacCready responded, swallowing all the pride he had left. “Please, he might be dying <i>right now</i>.” <br/>At that, the two settlers looked at each other. The woman spoke up for the first time now:<br/>“And how do we know you ain’t conning us? You ain’t got evidence, do you?”, she asked. MacCready shook his head.<br/>“Well, I don’t see why we’d just give you our last dose, just because you’re puttin’ on a little play here”, she said, looking at him in distrust. MacCready hung his head.  There was nothing he could do now. Song was dying, and his own people were too distrusting to help him. <br/>MacCready would’ve just threatened them until they gave it, but he knew that wasn’t what Song would’ve wanted. Also, there were two shotguns and a turret against him, and MacCready didn’t like those odds.</p>
<p>Slowly, he backed away, still under the scrutinizing stares of the settlers. Carefully, he picked up his rifle, keeping an eye on them, in case they tried to shoot him. They didn’t, but they also didn’t lower their weapons. <br/>His ears picked up a faint metallic sound, as he bent down to retrieve the gun. Suddenly, he had an idea. Reaching into his back pocket, he got out a small pouch filled to the brim with caps, which he showed them.<br/>“I can pay! Anything you want, I don’t care! I need… I need him alive… please”, he pleaded one last time, his last words nearly a whisper. <br/>The man looked at him with something akin to understanding in his eyes. It seemed to take ages, but finally, he nodded. <br/>“Wait here, I’ll get the thing. You can bargain with Mara here”, he said, as he went into one of the shacks.</p>
<p>Before Mara could even say something, MacCready interjected:<br/>“Look, I don’t care. I just need him alive, I can give you everything. Just make it quick, please.” <br/>A small part of his brain was screaming at him, but a larger part was aware that Song had spent far more caps on him than he’d ever see in his life. That larger part was aware that Song was only ill, because he’d been solving MacCready’s problems. That larger part was aware…that he needed Song. In more ways than just one. <br/>Mara nodded and he gave her the caps. Shortly after, the man returned with a bottle of radAway, which MacCready put in his backpack, ever so careful not to break it. <br/>“Thank you. You won’t regret this, I swear”, he promised, before turning around. Setting a quick pace, he started marching back to the little cabin where he left Song. Hoping, praying to whoever was listening, that he hadn’t made this trip for nothing.</p>
<p>Song’s face was paler than MacCready had ever seen. His chest was rising and falling, visibly weak, and yet the pistol that was pointing at MacCready didn’t shake.<br/>“It’s me, boss! It’s me!”, MacCready hastily said, dropping his rifle.<br/>“Oh…yeah, that makes sense”, Song replied, letting his hand fall back into his lap, before closing his eyes again. <br/>“I’ve got the radAway, I swear to…whatever, if you die now, I <i>will</i> kick you”, MacCready mumbled, as he made his way over to Song. <br/>Without further ado, he popped the bottle open and held out a pill for Song to take. With shaking hands, the other tried to grasp it, once, twice, until MacCready just fed it to him. Song’s lips were incredibly dry. The pill went down, but immediately afterwards, another one followed. Song seemed hesitant, so MacCready said sternly:<br/>“You have to take three, if you want them to work.” <br/>Song heaved a long-suffering sigh but obliged. He even drank the water MacCready offered him afterwards. <br/>“I knew you…could do it. And look at me, huh? Didn’t die”, Song mumbled. <br/>“You’re not clear yet, boss”, MacCready warned. Still, he smiled. Only Song would sass someone with one foot in the grave. </p>
<p>It took a while for Song to recover. Even if radAway was one of the most advanced methods of curing radiation sickness known to date, it took a toll on the body, and MacCready had to watch out for Song not to just accidentally dehydrate himself. Song, of course, was up again after only a few minutes, assuring MacCready he was fine, but the mercenary didn’t buy it. Nobody popped back from the edge of death so fast, not even Song, who begrudgingly stayed in the cabin after MacCready threatened to shoot him in the leg if he wouldn’t rest. He wouldn’t have all his hard work go to waste just because Song couldn’t take care of himself. <br/>As it turned out, Song was an expert gambler. After being thoroughly destroyed in almost any card-game imaginable, MacCready vowed to never touch a deck again, as long as Song was somewhere within hearing distance. That man was menace, and his poker-face was perfect. </p>
<p>After they’d whiled away a few hours, Song carefully brought up the possibility of leaving again. He seemed to be in far better health than previously, which was the only reason MacCready eventually agreed to go.<br/>“Good. It’ll probably take us the rest of the day to get to Zimonja, but I do know a spot where we can camp out without being noticed. We’ll quickly stop by Tenpine’s, to-“ <br/>“Wait, you still wanna take out those raiders? In your condition?”, MacCready interjected, his eyebrow shooting upwards.<br/>“Why, yes. As I assured you, my condition is excellent. This is by far not the first time I’ve nearly died, and definitely not the closest I’ve been to death. The medication was enough to get me back up, and we did say we would take care of it.” <br/>MacCready sighed, already knowing he wasn’t going to win this one. Still, he didn’t just concede.<br/>“At least tell me we won’t be fighting anything today, if we can help it?” <br/>“I can’t make that promise, but I will say that I don’t wish to fight at all. Ever, that is”, Song smirked. <br/>“That’s bullcrap, I’ve seen you fight, you know?” <br/>“I beg your pardon?”, Song asked, looking confused.<br/>“You enjoy fighting, at least a bit. Take pride in helping people, in what you do. I saw you with those mutes, the way you took them down.” <br/>“I was most effective. I did <i>not</i> enjoy myself”, Song protested.<br/>“You’re good at what you do, and you know it. Same with me. I’m a dam- dang good marksmen, and I know it. I take pride in my work, even if I don’t like that I have to do it”, MacCready explained. Did Song really not know this? <br/>Song seemed hesitant, but slowly he nodded.<br/>“I…suppose you’re right. In a way, I very much appreciate the way I can operate in a fight.”<br/>“That’s the best I’m going to get, hm?” <br/>“For now, yes. I’ll have to think about it, I’ve… never quite noticed before”, Song replied, already deep in thought. <br/>“Sooo… do we want to go now, or…?”, MacCready motioned towards the already open door.<br/>“Oh! Yes, of course. Let’s get on with it, we are wasting daylight. Maybe this time, I’ll pay a bit more attention to the sky?” <br/>“I fu-really hope so, we don’t need another close call.” <br/>“I’m sure you’d rescue as well as you did before”, Song said with a smile, while MacCready simply scowled at him. He couldn’t keep it up for long and broke into a happy smile. <br/>“Let’s not let it come to that, ‘kay?”</p>
<p>After they’d visited the settlers so that Song could thank them personally – they did not give back the caps, but according to Song it was ‘impolite’ to ask-, they made good headway on their journey. According to Song they were still roughly within the timeframe they needed to be to buy the chems, since it was such a large order. People would be willing to wait for a bit, if so much money was involved.<br/>By nightfall, they had reached an old overpass. In the distance, they could see a small wooden contraption, like a cabin but a bit more open, built directly onto one of the overpass’s carrying columns. <br/>“We need to be careful now. Grab one”, Song whispered towards MacCready, pulling out three identical looking blades. MacCready shot him a questioning look, but nodded and took one.<br/>“We are close to the outpost, if we resort to shooting now, they will hear us”, Song explained, and MacCready nodded, clicking on the safety of his rifle, then fastening it on his back to have both hands free.<br/>“Where’d you grab the knives from?”, he whispered. He didn’t notice them in the bags before, so Song must’ve concealed them on his person.<br/>“Sanctuary. You never know when a good knife can come in handy.” <br/>“Well, not in a  gunfight, that’s for sure”, MacCready muttered and Song stifled a laugh.<br/>“You...would be surprised. Now, now, let’s focus. I would hate to have made it all this way, only to be killed by some random feral ghoul.” </p>
<p>Thankfully, they didn’t have to dispose of any wasteland creature bigger than a standard bug this time. Once they had time to settle down in the tiny space, that contained only a mattress, a shelf and – weirdly – a bathtub, as well as some candles, MacCready looked at Song.<br/>“How are we going to do this, boss?”<br/>“Well, <i>you</i> are going to light some candles and go to sleep. You’ve done enough for one day”, Song responded. MacCready simply raised an eyebrow and waited. After a few seconds, Song sighed and continued:<br/>“…while I go out and sneak into the outpost. I need to-“ <br/>“You. Need to rest, boss. They’re still going to be there in the morning, and I can scout them out tonight, if you really need to. There’s no need to put yourself in danger like that”, MacCready protested.<br/>“Creeds, that’s very sweet of you, but I do need to do this tonight. The darkness is the best cover I could wish for, and as far as I know, you do not have a nightvision scope on that rifle of yours. By the by, remind me of that next time we stop at a larger settlement. I believe she needs an upgrade.” <br/>“I-sure. Why do you need to go there tonight? We can scout them out in the morning, after you’ve rested.” <br/>“We need to get this over with. If we’re lucky, I can sneak into the outpost itself, sabotage weapons, turrets, create entrance points… all of that can only be done by night.” <br/>“I…fine”, MacCready sighed, “but… don’t fight anyone, all right?” <br/>“I won’t.” <br/>“Do you… do you promise?”, MacCready asked carefully, knowing full-well what a promise meant to Song. Grey eyes met blue ones, as Song held eye contact for a long time. Then, he nodded.<br/>“I promise.” <br/>“Good… then… go, do what you need to do. I’ll wait till you come back.” <br/>“I would not do that. These things take time, and I will need you at top performance tomorrow”, Song said, already walking out. <br/><i>The irony</i>, MacCready simply thought, before he turned to the mattress, tossing a simple “Goodbye”, over his shoulder. He froze, when Song answered. <br/>“Don’t worry, I’ll be back. Goodbye, darling.” <br/>Then, he disappeared into the night. <br/><i>Motherfu- Blast. What was that?</i>, MacCready’s thoughts raced. He didn’t imagine that. Maybe Song was just trying out a new nickname? Something like that, surely. He did have that weird way of talking, overly polite and clear pronunciation, that MacCready hadn’t ever heard from anyone else. Sure, it was nothing. Just a new nickname. Something that slipped out accidentally. </p>
<p><i>Song’s POV</i><br/>Well, that had been… maybe not a mistake, but certainly unintended. <br/>Song shook his head, as he made his way towards the Outpost Zimonja, clearly visible by it’s blinding lights, cutting into the dark of the night. His steps were silent as a ghosts, not a single pebble was disturbed, as he carefully ventured further and further towards his goal.<br/>Creeds was… difficult, in a way that Song hadn’t anticipated. A good way for sure. Fire was difficult. Love, as Song knew all too well – as <i>Iden</i> knew all too well, was difficult. <br/>Was it love? Was that it, what he felt for the mercenary with his light brown hair, his unbridled sass, his utter determination to get himself into stupid situations for Song? Probably. <br/>Iden was too experienced to dismiss it as anything else than it was, but he had to be careful. Creeds had been hurt by the world, and Song wanted nothing more than to show him, that there was beauty in all things, even broken ones. A shattered mirror could reflect thousandfold, and blossoms strewn in the wind had stories to tell. Creeds… couldn’t see that, not yet. </p>
<p>Song smiled wistfully, as he crouched down on top of a small rock formation, black suit but a shadow in a night full of them. They had time. First, they needed to get their shit together. Solve their problems. One step at a time. </p>
<p>Suddenly, a strong cone of light cut through the darkness, and Song instinctively slunk back into the shadows. The light crept over to him, but it did not quite reach him, quickly disappearing into another direction. <br/>Immediately, Song crept towards the edge of the rock formation, peeking out from behind, only to see his suspicion confirmed: The light was coming from atop the helmet of a massive silhouette, with sharp angles and edges instead of soft ones. The light of a lantern dimly reflected of glinting surfaces, outlining a metallic suit. In it’s hand, there was a large contraption, almost like a rocket-launcher, but… even worse. Immediately, Song returned to the shadows, cursing internally. <br/>Power armour. Someone out there had power armour and a bloody fat-man. The biggest two advantages anyone could have in the wasteland. Armour that could withstand even the greatest amount of radiation, not to mention hold it’s own against a fully-grown deathclaw, and a handheld catapult that was capable of launching miniature nuclear bombs, that exploded with enough force to rip a house apart and reduce it to nothing but smoking rubble. <br/><i>Good grief, these raiders are equipped well</i>, he thought, as he continued to survey the area. <br/>Thankfully they weren’t nearly as perceptive as they were well equipped and even the turret they had placed on one of their walls hadn’t spotted him yet. <br/>Song smirked, as he weaved in and out of the shadows, silently slinking through the tiny gaps in the outpost’s defences and surveillance. He was good at what he did. <br/>Briefly he thought of Creeds, as he swung himself onto the wall, crouching behind the turret. Not a soul had seen or heard him, and as he silently recalculated the turret, he thought that maybe, maybe Creeds was right. Maybe he really did enjoy the fighting, the sneaking around. Nowadays, that was. Things were, ironically, simpler, now that the world was but ash and rubble. No commanders, no orders, nothing. Nobody to tell him where to go or what to do, no constant surveillance… it would have been peaceful, if it wasn’t so violent. </p>
<p>The turret reactivated with a soft whir, that thankfully didn’t stir anybody and Song was free to move on. <br/>Taking a look around, he quickly assessed the outpost’s resources. What he saw made his lips quirk upwards. Next to some badly fields with only a single, meagre tomato plant, there stood a water pump. It’s blue paint had long since started to peel of in dried flakes and the metal beneath was rusted. <br/>The whole outpost was in bad shape, Song realized, as he took in the makeshift walls, the single concrete block around which all was built and the periodically sputtering generator that kept the lamps powered. Still careful not to attract the person’s attention that was wielding a handheld weapon of mass destruction, Song made his way to the back of the camp, staying away from any light. Sadly he eyed the fat-man, loaded with a miniature nuke, still secure in the hands of it’s wielder. If they left the weapon unobserved for even a moment, Song could probably sabotage it and make it useless, but… unfortunately it stayed firmly in the raider’s hand. <br/>As he circled around the camp, still undetected, he counted 6 other raiders, most of which were already sleeping. As far as he could see, the only really dangerous one – apart from the walking tank with a nuclear bomb strapped to it of course – was a man in his 30’s, who had a machine gun by his side. The others boasted inferior weapons, from pipe-pistols to simple baseball bats. </p>
<p>A bit further down the road, between the two sides of a small canyon-like formation of rock, he could see a burnt-out blue truck. From where he stood, Song could count at least 3 turrets besides it. Frowning, he checked the pip-boy, only to discover he’d been away for about 2 hours by now. That was enough time to take a short detour, right? <br/>The turrets there weren’t exactly in his way, but he liked to have a lot of options, and enemy turrets weren’t really helping him in any way. Hopefully Creeds was already asleep, and not still waiting for him to come back. <br/><i>This… might take a while.</i></p>
<p>Once he got back, Song was relieved to see Creeds on the mattress, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, his rifle still in his hands. Carefully, Song removed it from the sleeping figure, not wanting it to accidentally go off during the night. Creeds stirred a bit, but that was it. <br/>After that Song took a blanket and settled down next to his companion. And if he sat a bit closer than strictly necessary, who was going to judge him for it? <br/>Softly, he drifted into a light slumber, accompanied by the images that normally sought him out during sleep. This time however, they seemed slightly dulled. Crimson faded to a soft red, black became grey, and steel softened to stone. <br/>Still, Song felt a hand shake his shoulder, almost hesitantly. Opening his eyes, he found Creeds standing above him, a concerned look on his face. <br/>“You… you looked like you…nevermind, forget it. It’s morning, boss”, Creeds said sheepishly, clearly losing the confidence to say whatever he’d originally wanted to say. <br/>“Thank you. I was having… a slight nightmare, nothing to be concerned about”, Song brushed it off. <br/>After having a light breakfast, Song explained his plan:<br/>“I need you on a nearby hill”, he opened the conversation, pointing in the direction. “You will need to be able to react, should something go horribly awry.” <br/>“Gotcha”, Creeds responded, his face serious. He had his rifle in hand, checking and cleaning it to be ready for action, should he need it. <br/>“I don’t want you to shoot until I give the signal, all right? Even if you think something is going wrong, the situation might not be what you think it is”, Song asked and Creeds nodded.<br/>“What’s the signal?”, he asked.<br/>Song tapped his middle-finger with his thumb, forming a circle, and extended all the other fingers of his hand outwards. <br/>“And… Creeds, if you do need to shoot…” <br/>“No killing, I get it. I’ll try my best, boss”, Creeds completed the sentence, and Song smiled. <br/>“Well then, let us get to work. We have some raiders to surprise, after all.” </p>
<p><i>MacCready’s POV</i><br/>The wind was whipping around him, cold due to the early morning hours, as he lay down on the nearby hill, his rifle firmly in his hands. Through the scope, he saw the camp, and some of the raiders within. A few precise adjustments later, and he was ready to shoot.<br/>By his count, there were 6 raiders in the camp, all badly equipped, but he didn’t know what was in that one metal shack at the heart of the outpost. Possibly more enemies. <br/>His hands began to sweat, as he thought of how difficult this was going to be. Not only wouldn’t they kill anyone, but they’d need to secure the outpost <i>and</i> get the raiders on their side – and he’d seen what raiders were like. Some of them had laughed, as they skinned people alive, others had been too drugged up to even notice one of their limbs missing… they were disgusting, and MacCready pitied anyone who ended up being their prisoner<br/>He really hoped it wouldn’t be Song and him.</p>
<p>At this point, he spotted Song. He’d apparently straightened his suit and tie, his hat sitting loosely on his hat, as he walked towards the camp. His hands dangled at his sides, and all in all, he looked like he didn’t have a care in the world. But MacCready had travelled with him for a while now, he could tell some of the signs. The way every part of his body, every joint and muscle seemed to be relaxed… it was <i>too</i> relaxed. Song normally reminded him of a deathclaw – graceful and dangerous, always ready to strike. But this time, he seemed entirely too harmless. </p>
<p>Lifting his hat, Song now decided to speak:<br/>“Good morning, folx! You’re all well, I hope?”, he said, his voice carrying easily across to MacCready. <br/>Immediately, the raiders began to man their walls and point their weapons at Song, who simply stood there, still smiling warmly. <br/>A faint creaking sound could be heard, as the door to the metal shack opened. MacCready cursed, as a behemoth of a… man?... stepped out, fully decked out in power-armour, holding a giant fat-man. This hadn’t been in the plan! How were they supposed to go against someone who was effectively invincible? <br/>Clutching the weapon, MacCready continued to aim at the person’s helmet, even though the bullet would only ricochet off. Maybe it would distract him long enough for Song to make a move, should something happen. <br/>“Who’s there?!”, the man – and the voice was indeed male – yelled out, marching past the outpost’s gate to see his ‘guest’. <br/>“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir. My name is Song. And you are…?”<br/>“Strig”, the man replied nearly automatically, obviously confused. MacCready did see a flash of recognition pass some of the other raider’s faces, as the name ‘Song’ was mentioned. <br/>“Mr. Strig, I have an offer to make. I’d like for you-“ <br/>“I’ve an offer for you too: Give us your stuff right now, or I’ll blow you up”, Strig interrupted Song and pointed the fat-man at him, still standing a safe distance away. Slowly, Song raised his hands, showing Strig that he was unarmed – which, MacCready knew, was a big fat lie. That suit of Song’s hid more than just how good he looked without one, and- <i>woah, not going there right now. Focus, MacCready, focus.</i> Anyway, MacCready was sure that Song had at least a pistol on him. </p>
<p>“Now, now, no need for that”, Song scolded. “I really do wish only to talk to you.”<br/>“Too bad, I don’t want to talk to you. Now give us your shit, or your guts will decorate our walls!” <br/>“What a disastrous combination that would be. Brown and blood-red just isn’t a good look on almost anything, you know?”, Song replied, still looking like he didn’t have a care in the world, even though MacCready could see the slow, deliberate movements of his eyes, as he took in the scene, no doubt scheming…something. <br/>At this response, Strig cocked his head in disbelief. <br/>“Are you nuts? <i>We are going to kill you.</i> Don’t you give a shit about that?”, the raider said, readjusting the fat-man to hold it a bit more comfortably. Song shifted his weight from one leg to the other. <br/>“Quite honestly, I just don’t believe you’re capable of doing that”, Song said – and with a flash, he stepped slightly to his left, pulling the trigger of his 10mm, that had appeared in his hand too fast for even MacCready – who more or less knew what had been coming – to follow. <br/>Metal hit metal, and Strig hissed, as he pulled the fat-man to the side, aiming straight at Song and – nothing happened. <br/>Song gave the raider a smile and pointed at his finger. Upon looking down, Strig saw his unharmed finger, still in the metal gauntlet of the power armour, resting on the trigger – or rather where the trigger should have been, had it not been shot cleanly off. <br/>“You…!”, Strig screamed in rage, tossing the fat-man aside, as he bolted towards Song, a metal behemoth ready to squash his opponent. <br/>MacCready tensed, waiting for Song to form the signal as the rest of the raiders slowly realized what happened and hastily got their weapons ready. But the signal didn’t come, Song nimbly weaving out of Strig’s path, who turned around and tried to backhand-slap Song with a mighty metal hand – only to find his opponent nearly <i>dancing</i> out of his range.<br/>Grunting, Strig tried to punch Song, but he was way too slow. Song ducked beneath his fist and suddenly snaked around the large metal body. With practiced ease, he turned a valve on the outside of the power armour, which then began to hiss. Strig turned around, ready to throw another punch, but Song clicked his tongue and pointed his gun at the yellow, almost spherical thing in his hand. <br/>At this point, the power armour opened up and Sprig tumbled out of it. He was a cleanly shaven man with short, black hair worn in an almost military style. Now that he was out of his power armour, MacCready could see that he was actually pretty small and wearing only the standard assortment of raider leathers, with no other armour to protect him. </p>
<p>Song’s gun was still pointed at the highly volatile fusion core, which he gently put down on the ground – maybe to keep one hand free, in case he had to give the signal.<br/>“Now, as I was saying – Gentlemen, Ladies, you might want to not point your weapons at me, or carry them at all, for I find myself highly in need to shoot this thing, should you disobey. And surely you all know that such an action would most likely result in our demise. So let’s talk about this, yes?”, Song warned the rest of the raiders, who’d come closer during the scuffle. <br/>They exchanged a few looks, but the panic was evident in their eyes. Eventually, they threw their weapons to the floor. Strig took a few steps back. He was grinding his teeth in fury, but didn’t say anything, while the other raiders seemed to both be scared and awed by Song at the same time. <br/>Honestly, MacCready didn’t even know you <i>could</i> force someone to get out of their power armour in mid-combat, and he’s certainly never seen anything this complicated pulled off so effortlessly before. Song seemed almost… bored with the whole thing, though MacCready suspected him to just act that way. Still, he had a job to do. </p>
<p>“Good, now that we’ve avoided further… violence, let’s talk. This outpost… is a wreck. You barely even have a supply of fresh water and I doubt anyone would call that pathetic plant over there a ‘foodsupply’. Judging by your weaponry, stealing and murdering also has not yielded the results you were hoping for. And you there, Strig, was it?” <br/>“…yes?”, Strig answered, gritting his teeth in frustration.<br/>“That power armour is of the kind the brotherhood of steel dons. You probably found it on a killed soldier, who fell to a… radscorpion, judging by the miniscule hole in the left arm”, Song observed and MacCready had to will his jaw not to fall off. Granted, he was farther away from the thing than Song, but for not even MacCready to spot it, the hole had to be tiny. That, or Song was blatantly lying to them.</p>
<p>“Wait a second…”, one of the raiders, a woman with a jet-black mohawk and a burn-scar across her left forearm said: “If you’re that Song guy, that means you can’t do shit! You don’t kill!” <br/>Song smiled at her and nodded. <br/>“While that may be true, I do not explicitly kill you with this, do I? I would simply shoot this fusion core. Whatever happens after can’t possibly be my fault, right? And even if – I’d be dead, so I doubt I would care all that much.” <br/>“…fair point. Looks like you ain’t that high and mighty after all, huh?”, she spat. <br/>“Oh my dear, I never was high and mighty, I assure you.<br/>Now, where was I? Ah, yes…” </p>
<p>And then, Song began talking. <i>Really</i> talking. <br/>MacCready himself had difficulties not to be charmed by the things Song said to them, and he wasn’t even in the conversation, for God’s sake! Still vigilant, he listened to Song’s silver tongue paint pictures of a prosperous farm, with actual defences. Turrets, walls, and as much food and water as anyone would want. No need to pillage anymore, no need to kill. A simple, honest life. A good life. People from all around would flock to the outpost, and trade would bloom. Bars, inns, shops and barbers all alike would open in Zimonja, the caravans from Bunker Hill would no longer fear them, but make deals with them. Caps and drinks would flow freely, Song promised, and they’d life a life far better in every way. A life where nobody needed to be constantly armed and on guard. A life where you could say what you wanted without fear of torture, where you could make your own decisions. </p>
<p>The raiders were smitten. MacCready could see their eyes begin to shine, as most of them even laid their weapons down, or at least lowered them. Sprig’s mouth stood open at the prospect of what Song was promising, and more than a few eyes were shining with tears. <br/>MacCready was convinced that, if he wanted to, Song could make the worst torturer a living saint, and cause a synth to think themselves a man, if he wanted to. </p>
<p>One of the raiders had seemed sceptic the entire time, though. A man with short, blonde hair, not quite unlike MacCready’s and a switchblade in his hand was glaring at his companions with obvious contempt. Cautiously, MacCready kept an eye on him, as he crept closer to Song, without the other raiders noticing – though MacCready was pretty sure Song was aware of it, even if he didn’t stop talking. <br/>Then, everything happened at once. Like a snake, the man lunged at Song, who deflected the blow with his forearm. His thumb touched his index-finger, the rest of the hand was stretched out – and MacCready fired. <br/>The bullet ripped straight through the man’s leg, it had been a well-aimed shot. Screams tore from his throat, as MacCready hastily reloaded, while the rest of the raiders looked between their fallen comrade, then back at Song with obvious confusion. Song smiled at them.<br/>“Sometimes”, he said: “…sometimes people don’t understand why peace is better than war and violence. It is because they never experienced it themselves, they don’t know what it’s like. Our job is it, to be kind to those who can’t do it themselves.” <br/>Slowly, he got out a stimpack from his bag, while the raider looked at him wearily. He didn’t struggle, as Song injected him. Afterwards, the wound visibly healed, blood stopped pouring out of it and soon, there was fresh skin sealing it. <br/>Song held out his hand, and the raider hesitated. Then, he took it, letting Song help him up, as the switchblade remained on the bloodstained grass.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you very much for reading! It would make my day, if you were to comment or leave Kudos! </p>
<p>I would also like to apologize for the time it took to complete this chapter, which was a bit longer than I thought it was. I've a lot going on at the moment, though I will try to make more time to write this story, since I do genuinely enjoy writing it. <br/>Anyway, I hope you have a good day, don't let the state of the world right now get you down too much. There's always tomorrow. </p>
<p>Sincerely, <br/>Adavago.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Letters in Goodneighbour</h2></a>
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    <b>Letters in Goodneighbour </b>
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</div><i>MacCready</i><br/>Afterwards things went smoothly. Song instructed the raiders to go to Sanctuary, in order to get a few of his people to the outpost, which could fix the water-supply as well as the farmlands. Almost immediately, the raiders left. There had been one tense moment, in which Strig reinserted the fusion core Song had handed back to him into the power armour, but thankfully he didn’t attack anyone.<br/>Soon enough, the raiders had left with what little they had, determined to make Song’s words come true. MacCready trailed them a bit, just to see if they really did leave and not pull off some elaborate trick, but came back soon enough. They seemed to be honest in their intentions.<p>Song was sitting on a chair, checking his weaponry. He looked incredibly pleased with himself, MacCready noted, as he made his way into the outpost. <br/>“I’ve never believed you could convince a raider to be a saint, until today. Good job, boss”, he said, pulling up another chair next to Song.<br/>“Thank you. I couldn’t have done it without you, Creeds”, Song responded with a warm smile. <br/>“That’s not true, but I appreciate it anyways.”<br/>“…well, there might have been more bloodshed, had you not been here. So… thank you. Truly.”<br/>“Just doing my job. Are we going to go on today?”, MacCready asked, as it was barely 1 o’clock. <br/>“Sure, just give me a minute. I have to make sure everything is in working order”, Song said, pulling a grimace, as he cleaned his 10mm. <br/>“Something wrong?”, MacCready asked.<br/>“No, I just really don’t like this thing. We don’t fit”, Song said, almost pouting. MacCready could feel his lips quirk up.<br/>“I don’t know, boss, you managed to pull off quite a shot with that one. I’ve never seen anyone react that quickly, I mean shooting off the trigger? That was insane.” <br/>Song smiled.<br/>“I suppose so, yes. I wasn’t quite sure it was going to work, but I had to risk it. With a better weapon, I would’ve been more comfortable, but… with the way it is, I can’t pull off stunts like that reliable enough to count on them every time. My luck is bound to run out sometime, and knowing me… it’s going to be sooner rather than later.” <br/>“You weren’t <i>sure it would work</i>?”, MacCready repeated in disbelief. “That was a fat-man!” <br/>“Sometimes you have to take risks, in order to get results.” Song grinned sheepishly. “Even I must admit though, that one was far too close for my liking.” <br/>MacCready sighed. </p>
<p>Soon enough, they were on their way again. Three more days passed by without any incident bigger than Song and MacCready taking out some molerats that were eager to make them their breakfast.<br/>They found themselves in the ruined city, surrounded by the remnants of mighty skyscrapers. More than once they had to hide from raiders or mutants, who oftentimes fought one another, allowing the two to escape. It was a tense journey, and not at all a pleasant one, but they made it to a fortified wall with neon letters, spelling out the settlement’s name: GOODNEIGHBOUR. Or as MacCready knew it: Everyone’s favourite dumpster. </p>
<p>Once inside the settlement that reeked as distinctly of smoke and sweat as it ever did, they visited Daisy. She was happy to see the two of them again, and they talked for a while, until Song nudged MacCready further into the city.<br/>“Where are we going, boss?” <br/>“We, dear, are going to stay at the Hotel Rexford, of course”, Song responded. <br/>“Ballsy, but I like it”, MacCready decided after a second of thought. After all, Song <i>did</i> give them a lot of caps. <br/>The Hotel Rexford was a once prestigious, but now ruined building, only frequented by those who wanted a room’s privacy, either to have sex or shoot themselves full with a different drug of their choice. The receptionist, an elderly woman called Clair, wasn’t very welcoming, as MacCready knew from experience. He’d once tried to get permanent lodging at the Rexford, in exchange for some smaller jobs, but she’d thrown him out.<br/>Only a few people were in the lobby itself, but nonetheless looked up once MacCready and Song entered. Immediately tension within the room ran high, and some of them – whom MacCready could guess were Marowski’s people, judging by the weaponry they had. Song didn’t seem fazed and simply tipped his hat towards Clair. <br/>“Well, well, what can I do for you? A room for the two of you?”, Clair asked, looking at both of them with clear disdain in both her eyes and voice. <br/>“Indeed, ma’am, if you’d be so kind”, Song said, already handing over the caps. MacCready could see from even where he stood, that it was far more than whatever the hotel-room would cost them.<br/>“Consider it an upfront-payment”, Song said. She looked at him and nodded slowly. <br/>“Room’s upstairs, here’s the keys”, she said curtly, tossing them towards Song, who easily snatched them out of the air. <br/>“You have my gratitude. And a nice day, I hope. Goodbye.” <br/>She didn’t respond, but Song didn’t seem to have thought she would, as he’d already gone away, leaving MacCready to follow him upstairs. The mercenary could feel the Marowski-Gang-Member’s stares as he did so, and instinctively he adjusted his rifle.</p>
<p>“I don’t like this one bit”, MacCready announced, as soon as the door shut behind them. Song turned around and gave him a comforting smile, but his finger lay on his lips. Pulling out a pen and a small slip of paper, he began writing.<br/>“You know, I do feel like I might treat myself tonight, maybe indulge in some of that Moonshine Charlie sells”, Song said in a very chipper tone, whilst passing the note to MacCready, who understood. They might not be able to talk openly here.<br/><i>Something is off. Marowski’s people are way too on edge, even if this is a large transaction.</i>, the note read. MacCready took the pen and began writing, far slower than Song.<br/>“I don’t know if you can call that swirl a treat, boss. I just saved you from radiation poisoning, let’s not try alcohol poisoning, ‘kay?” <br/><i>If you say so. To me, they’re just shady. What do we do?</i><br/><i>We don’t have a choice, we have to go through with this.</i><br/>“What’s your vice of choice, then, Creeds?” <br/>“My wha- oh, I smoke”, MacCready stammered, caught of guard. <br/>“Oh, you too? Could you pass me your lighter, for just a moment, please?”, Song asked him. MacCready knew Song didn’t smoke, but at this point he knew when Song was pulling something. So, he simply handed his lighter over. Immediately, Song flipped it open and began to burn the paper, which crumbled to ash. Afterwards, he ignited a single cigarette, and held it out towards MacCready, who took it, raising an eyebrow. Song also didn’t usually carry any cigarettes with him. His boss just smirked and pulled MacCready’s pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, handing it back. <br/>Suppressing a curse, MacCready shot him a half-hearted glare, pocketing his pack again. He hadn’t even noticed Song swiping it, which would be worrisome, if it were someone else. With Song, he kind of just accepted it. Once again he thanked the stars Song wasn’t his enemy. <br/>“I’ll go and arrange everything with Marowski’s people. Why don’t you go and reacquaint yourself with Goodneighbour, what do you say?” <br/>“Boss, I don’t need to –“, MacCready began, but then he understood what Song had tried to tell him. He wanted MacCready to check the perimeter, see if anything was weird. “Actually… there’s one thing I wanted to do… you’re okay by yourself?” <br/>“Of course I am, Creeds. I’m me.”<br/>“…fair. Where do we meet?” <br/>“Let’s say… about 8 o’clock at the Third Rail, yes?”, Song said.<br/>“Good luck.” <br/>“The same to you. Now then, let’s not waste any more time. Goodbye.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Going around the settlement, MacCready noticed a few things. First, and most importantly, he was definitely being followed. Two clumsy men in drifter attire – ragged clothing, for the most part -, followed him wherever he went, pretending to be on a stroll. <br/>Easy enough, he wasn’t actually doing anything that could rile them up, so he just ignored them and kept looking around. Something else was bothering him, a small thing that he might have missed, if he wasn’t so used to picking out even the tiniest details… <br/>Marowski’s people, apart from the two fuckhe- idiots following him, weren’t around. On his entire two-hour stroll through the settlement, he saw about three of them – and that count included his stalkers. Something was up, and it was driving him mad that he couldn’t figure out what. <br/>Looking at his wristwatch, he noticed the time was nearly up, he had to meet Song soon. Glancing behind, he made sure the goons were still following him, which… sure thing, they did. <br/>Quickly, he went around a corner and readied his rifle, pointing it at the point where he’d stood just seconds prior. <br/>“No. Sudden. Moves. Drop your weapons”, MacCready snarled, as the two of them – apparently brothers, both looking gangly, with blonde hair and sharp facial features – rounded the corner. Both of them looked completely shocked, staring at the barrel that was pointed towards them.<br/>“Not a sound. You’re going to come deeper into this alleyway, and then we’re gonna have a talk, understood?”, MacCready said, once both of them had dropped their sub-machineguns, which were far too well-kept and expensive to belong to any usual drifter. <br/>Slowly, they nodded and raised their hands, putting them behind their heads. Watching out for any sudden movements, MacCready kept a sharp eye on them, as they solemnly marched further into the alleyway, away from the main street. Nobody seemed to have noticed MacCready’s little stunt, which suited him just fine. </p>
<p>“Now, you’re going to tell me, why you’ve been stalking me the entire time. If you don’t I can get <i>very</i> uncomfortable, and trust me: I’m not Song. I don’t have a problem with shooting each of your ugly mugs and leaving you dead in an alley. So… wanna talk?”, MacCready said, sending a sharp smile to both of them. <br/>“I-I swear, we just wanted to make sure…sure nothing weird was going on!”, one of them, the one with a big patch of oil on his shirt, stammered. <br/>“Yeah! We wanted to see if you’d be in trouble, that’s all!”, the other agreed hastily, still eying MacCready’s rifle. <br/>“Sureee… And why would I believe that? Cause your so nice people, right?”<br/>“Cause it’s the truth! Nothing happened, right? And it’s Goodneighbour, shit happens here all the time. That’s proof!”, the stainless one said. <br/>MacCready frowned. <br/>“Do you really expect me to believe that? Nothing happened, because I’m godda- dang MacCready, I’m quick with a rifle and here with Song. Everybody knows that, that’s why nothing has happened.” <br/>In a flash, MacCready moved to the one with the stain, the butt of his rifle smashing into his head. He fell backwards and impacted with the wall, before falling to the ground, writhing in pain, but not unconscious. MacCready frowned and brought the gun down once more. Then, he turned around and raised it against the other one, who’d just been staring at him the entire time. <br/><i>How does Song knock them unconscious so easily?</i>, MacCready thought briefly, before focusing back on the task before him.<br/>“I’m getting real tired of your crap! Tell. Me. What. Is. Going. On”, he demanded, each word pressed through his teeth. The goons eyes were wide as plates, as he stammered:<br/>“Okay, okay, okay! We were sent to keep an eye on you, I don’t know why, I swear! We’re supposed to report if you went to werehouse 3! That’s all, that’s all I know!” <br/>“At least something. Listen here. You’re not going to say a word about all of this, clear? If it were up to me, I’d just pop a cap into both of you and be done with it. You can thank your luck that it isn’t, so you’d better be dang grateful.” <br/>And with that, he turned around, leaving the alleyway. He had the feeling none of the two would dare go up against him anytime soon. This wasn’t the first time he had to play rough, in order to get some people to stop bugging him, after all. It was the first time nothing ended in bloodshed, though, which he counted as a small victory. </p>
<p>The Third Rail was as full of shady people and smoke as it ever was, and yet it felt familiar to MacCready. This was where he belonged. He’d done this for so long now, diving in and out of shady places, speaking with potential clients, evading the gunners at every possibility… <br/>What wasn’t familiar was the pristine figure, standing at the bar. As always, in a black suit, Song looked both like he was completely out of his depth and absolutely at ease, chatting with Charlie the entire time. People left and right were drawn into the conversation, and Song merely continued talking, leaning at the bar as if he had no care in the world. <br/>MacCready stopped once he’d reached the end of the staircase that lead into the main room of the Third Rail, looking at Song for a bit, while he was occupied. <br/>Words, no doubt polite and charming, fell from the other’s lips, making the people around him laugh and smile. A scarred drifter, machinegun lying next to him was smiling like a kid, a hollow-eyed woman with a fierce look about her had her eyes closed, bellowing with laughter. Even Charlie, the ever grumpy robot seemed to have taken a liking to Song. Of course, he had no expression, but the fact that Song had a cup of steaming liquid in his hand said enough. Charlie wouldn’t move more than necessary if you <i>paid</i> him, and MacCready had never seen anyone else drink coffee here. </p>
<p>“That one yours?”, he heard a soft but powerful voice from behind him. He didn’t need to turn around, recognizing it instantly, but he did so anyway – he didn’t like to be rude to a woman like Magnolia. In her dazzling red dress, she walked down the stairs with practiced ease, even though she was wearing high-heels. <br/>“Hm?”<br/>“The gentleman, is he yours?”, she asked again.<br/>“Gentleman?”, MacCready asked, just to buy time. There was only one person in the room who could be called a ‘gentleman’ and both of them knew that. Magnolia simply smiled. <br/>“He’s…he’s with me, at least. So. Yeah, I think so”, MacCready finally answered, and her smile turned into an expression of pity.<br/>“Oh, honey. You’re not sure?” <br/>“Magnolia, I… it’s complicated.” <br/>“Is it? MacCready, darling… It’s the easiest thing in the world”, she said, moving past him. Shooting one last reassuring smile in his direction, she ascended onto the stage, her dress glinting in the lights. Waiting for the music to set in, she looked him directly in the eye. Then, she began to sing.<br/><i>Like an earthquake, starting to roll, I felt my world shake…out of control…</i></p>
<p>At this moment, Song turned around and looked into MacCready’s direction, beckoning him closer. <br/><i>Like a world war, starting to brew, Baby, it’s just you…</i><br/>“Creeds! I already arranged everything for our meeting. Why don’t you come here and enjoy the night with us?”, Song asked, gesturing to the people around him, who nodded. <br/>“On my way, boss”, MacCready answered. In the corner, Magnolia gave him one more smile. </p>
<p>
  <i>Oh, baby, it's just<br/>Baby, it's just<br/>Baby, it's just you…</i>
</p>
<p>The night was… hard to remember, in retrospect. There was a lot of talking, and a lot of people, but MacCready managed to remember Song dragging him back to the…no, not the Hotel, he was pretty sure of that. Somewhere. <br/>Cracking an eye open, he was once again greeted by a Med-X syringe, a glass of water and… a paper card with Song’s handwriting on it. <br/>Deciding one thing was more important than the other, MacCready took the Med-X, since he really did drink a lot last night. He wasn’t even sure how much, but it must’ve been quite a bit, to knock him out as hard as it did. <br/>Looking out of the window, it was at least 10 in the morning, if not more. <br/>He groaned and sat himself upright, grimacing at the feeling of his clothes un-sticking from his body. Groggily, he picked up the card and began to read it. </p>
<p>
  <i>Hey Creeds<br/>Please don’t be alarmed. <br/>I’m sorry I had to deceive you, but you truly were delightful company last night. Don’t worry, nothing happened. You just drank a lot, which I’m afraid to say, I encouraged. <br/>I don’t know how long you’re going to sleep, but I’m writing this as the sun rises. At the moment, you’re still sleeping and I dearly wish you must never see this card. But… however many lies slip through my teeth so easily, with you they cease to come. I know, that even should I return, I will not take back this card, for you deserve something given so rarely: The truth. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Marowski’s people have planned an ambush. After my latest run-in with the gunners, they have promised a few boons to anyone who could get rid of me – just me. So, they set up the chem-deal to lure me in. <br/>Do not worry, I have got this handled. I don’t intend to die, especially not since it would devalue the hard work you took upon yourself to keep me very much alive. I simply feared – and fear still – you might get caught up in the proverbial crossfire, as I must now dismantle Marowski’s gang completely. <br/>I can see the fury, the disappointment in your eyes, even as I write. And then the sadness, dare I say? Fear not, you are the reason that I am gone – however temporary it may be. I cannot stand the thought of endangering you when I am not at your side, to help mitigate what I’ve done. <br/>I have not abandoned you, and I prey that you will do me the same courtesy. <br/>You are right to be furious, for I have deceived you, even though I did not lie. <br/>And you are right to be disappointed, for did I not hire you to protect me? Should you not be by my side, and – my hand shakes at the thought – want to be by my side even? I like to think that we’ve found good friends in one another, and… If I may be so bold… I dare say there might be even more between us. <br/>It is in the spirit of this hope that I write to you now, and it is also the hope of trust you may give me, once again? Have faith in me, Creeds. I will not let you down. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>I do not think you are the type to sit around and wait, on the contrary. I’m counting on you. We still need those chemicals, and I have heard of someone who could know the laboratory’s location. A ghoul woman by the name of Trish. She is conducting a deal – a proper one this time – with someone called Henry Cooke from Diamond city. <br/>It will be your job to find the laboratory’s location. I will find you, once everything is done, and hopefully in good health. <br/>I will not die. Please do the very same.<br/>Love<br/>Song. </i>
</p>
<p><i>Song’s POV</i><br/>“Hopefully, you didn’t think this would actually work?”, Song asked nonchalantly, closing the double-doors with an audible noise. <br/>The man turned away from the filing cabinet he’d been inspecting, surprise and fear evident on his face. Panicked, he looked around for his bodyguard, who was nowhere to be seen. <br/>“Please, Mr. Marowski. Have a seat”, Song said gesturing to the man’s own desk chair. The fan whirred silently, as the gangster sat down, his eyes checking the room for any sort of escape. Song’s shoes echoed on the checkered floor tiles, as he drew closer. <br/>Cocking his head, hand meaningfully resting on his 10mm, he said:<br/>“I asked you a question, Mr. Marowski. Did you really think this would work?” <br/>“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about, Song”, the gangster replied, nervously glancing at his own pistol on the desk. Song could see the thoughts running through his head. <br/>“Oh, please. Don’t lie to me, you’re far too bad at it.”<br/>The picture of absolute calm, Song sat down on one of the chairs in front of the desk, legs crossed. <br/>“Don’t eye that weapon too eagerly, Mr. Marowski, I could get the wrong idea. And you do not want that, at all. Don’t worry, I’m not here to cause any bloodshed.” <br/>“Then what do you want?”, Marowski answered, his voice pressed. <br/>“Simple. I want what we agreed upon. I will pay you, by not destroying your entire organization in retaliation for your…unwise act.” <br/>“What?! Forget it! I’ll have you killed, that’s what I’m-“ <br/>“Mr. Marowski. I advise you strongly to calm down”, Song said, pointing his gun at the other. “Trust me, you don’t want this to be solved in a violent manner. I may not kill, but I have no problem with maiming you harshly enough, you might just feel it for the rest of your life… however short it may be afterwards.” <br/>“Empty threats. You could hurt me, sure, but my organization is too powerful. You’re just a person, Song, no matter what the stories say”, Marowski scoffed, but he’d managed to calm himself.<br/>A small smile played around Song’s lips, as he holstered the weapon again. <br/>“Maybe. Thankfully, I have a lot of allies. I am the general of the minutemen, and not eno-“ <br/>“The minutemen are weak. They’ve no hold over Goodneighbour, they’ll die like they did before.” <br/>“Do not. Interrupt me”, Song said, his voice an icy blade. Marowski paled and nodded. <br/>“Good. As I was just saying… Not only do I have the minutemen firmly on my side, I have been talking to Mayor Hancock. And I hear he’s been all too eager to kick you out of his territory once and for all. Now, if I were to simply drop a few hints here and there…”, Song trailed off, smiling at his adversary, who didn’t look as scared as he ought to.<br/>“So? I could set up shop elsewhere. There’s always going to be a need for chems, and you can’t change that.” <br/>“Maybe, but I can cut off the supply.” <br/>“..how?” <br/>“Let’s just say, your laboratory isn’t as save as you think it might be”, Song revealed. <br/>Marowski laughed, a short, unhealthy sound that reverbed from the marble tiles. <br/>“You really think that, heh? That lab is one of the safest places in the Commonwealth. No way you know where there it, or how you get there.” <br/>“I’m going to warn you one more time. Give me what I want, or I will cripple everything you’ve ever set up. I’m going to leave you a broken husk, Marowski. Do you really want that?” <br/>“Try me, freak.” <br/>Suddenly, Marowski’s hand shot forwards, grabbing the smooth handle of his pistol – only to stay exactly where it was, as the cold metal of Song’s 10mm pressed against his forehead. <br/>“What a pity. And here I had hoped we could come to an agreement. What can I say, not everyone who wears a suit also has class, hm? Goodbye, Mr. Marwoski. The next time we’ll meet, you will have lost everything.” <br/>With that, Marowski’s body slumped down on the desk, the pistol sliding out of his grasp, his breathing steady. </p>
<p>Calmy, Song started fiddling with his pip-boy for a few seconds, the transcript from the previous conversation displayed on the screen. <br/>Soon enough, he heard someone rapidly knocking at the door. <br/>“Sir? I heard a noise, is everything alright?”, a deep voice asked from behind it. <br/>“- I don’t know what you’re talking about-“, Marowski’s voice blared from the device on Song’s arm. <br/>“All right, all right. Just checking.” <br/>The noise of someone going away from the door could be heard. Song smiled. Then, he slipped out, the door swinging open without a noise. He had a lot of work to do.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It had now been six days since he’d last seen Creeds, Song mused, as he made is way into the city. Six days of not knowing how the man reacted to his letter, and it was killing him.<br/>He’d hesitated so often whilst writing it, every instinct screaming against putting anything important to paper, but he had no other choice. Creeds deserved to know the truth.</p>
<p>These last days had been hell, even for him. He’d been constantly on edge, spent his time chasing and being chased in return. He barely got a wink of sleep, and when he did, he’d slept with a gun in his hands and on cold, hard ground. <br/>The numerous buildings he’d visited recently flashed in front of his mind’s eye, as he saw the great green wall of Diamond City. Each of those had been dirtier and messier than the other, filled with giant roaches, mutants and the possibility of a shotgun at every corner. By the end, he’d been barely hanging on to consciousness.<br/>Once again he saw the tear-filled face of the young raider girl, not even an adult yet, whom he’d nearly killed. Nearly, just nearly, he’d lost his control, his finger caressing the trigger with an all too familiar tingle in it. <br/>Shaking his head, he breathed out heavily. He hadn’t. He had not killed her. That was the important thing. <br/>Diamond City was as welcoming as it ever was, with it’s little metal huts, it’s grumpy and weird inhabitants and the faint smell of noodles wafting around the marketplace. The slight murmur of bargaining in the background, the specs of conversation floating around, even the protectron behind the bar were familiar sights to Song. <br/>He didn’t, however, see the one thing he was looking for. There was no trace of an old, brown duster, not a single tuft of light-brown hair beneath a cap, no cocky smirk… in short: Creeds was nowhere to be seen. </p>
<p>Anxiety wasn’t really something he had to fight with a lot, not with his line of work – or rather previous line of work. When every single second determined life or death, there was no time to waste in senseless worrying, and Song was proud to say, that he was, all in all, a confident person. <br/>And yet, he couldn’t deny that feeling that quelled up inside his chest, threatening to grasp his lungs with cold arms. Taking a moment, he swallowed the lump in his throat. Then, he knocked at the door of red metal before him. </p>
<p>Behind it, he could hear footsteps, then a lock being undone. The metal creaked, and he found himself face to face with Piper, staring at him in… pity? <br/>“Hey Blue. He’s… he’s upstairs”, she said curtly, still looking at him in that peculiar way. <br/><i>Am I really that obvious?</i>, Song thought. His old instructor would have had a field day, if he’d found out an untrained reporter saw through his façade. Then again, his old instructor probably didn’t know Piper, she was… one of a kind, to say the least. <br/>“How is he?”, he asked her, as entered, the floorboards silent beneath his steps. <br/>“He’s… you should probably see for yourself. He’s not injured, if you meant that.” Her tone made clear she didn’t believe he did, and for once, he was too exhausted to lie. He simply nodded at her, as thankful as he could muster. </p>
<p>He climbed the stairs more than he took them, arriving at the little loft-like space above the Publick Occurrences office, where he knew Piper usually slept. It wasn’t much, just a bed, a dresser and a suitcase, next to a door that lead to the roof. On top of the dresser lay a crumpled piece of paper, that Song new very well.<br/>There he was. Soundly asleep on the bed, was Creeds, his rifle next to him on the floor, lying at his fingertips. He seemed uninjured, there was no blood anywhere. His breathing was steady in it’s sleeping rhythm. Song let out a relieved sigh he wasn’t aware he’d been holding.<br/>“Thank god, you’re okay”, he whispered, his voice heavy. <br/>In that moment, Creeds began to stir, his eyes slowly opening. Song could see the exact moment consciousness returned to Creeds’ body, the muscles tensing beneath the old duster. Then, blue eyes stared at him from across the room. <br/>“…Song? Is… is that really you?” </p>
<p>Song smiled. <br/>“It’s me Creeds. I’m back. Are you-“, he began to ask, but was cut off by Creeds leaping out of the bed, rifle still on the floor. It wasn’t a fast leap, more like a drunken stumble, but nonetheless, Creeds bumped into Song, who only furrowed his brows in confusion. <br/><i>What is he doing?</i><br/>Then, two arms wrapped around him, and he understood. <br/>A hug. <br/>For a second, Song stood completely still, not a muscle in his body moving, even his breath stopping. Then, slowly, he curled his arms around Creeds, resting his hands on his back. It… had been a while since he had one of those. <br/>Awkwardly, they stood there, until slowly, both of them relaxed, their hug turning into something a bit more natural.<br/>“I’m sorry”, Song finally said, whispering into Creeds’ back. <br/>“…I hate you so much”, Creeds said back, but there was no malice in his voice, instead he sounded like he tried desperately not to cry. Song smiled sadly, his eyes dry as ever. <br/>“I’m sorry.” <br/>“Fuck you. You could’ve <i>said something</i>, instead of just leaving this <i>stupid letter</i>”, Creeds replied, looking Song directly into the eye now, his own blue ones filled with unshed tears. He was still not breaking the hug. <br/>“I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” <br/>“You could have died!” <br/>“That would have been okay. You-“ <br/>“No it wouldn’t! Fu-Goddang it, Song don’t you see <i>I care about you</i>? I don’t want you to die!”, Creeds cursed, averting his eyes. <br/>“But… I can’t let you get hurt”, Song said softly. <br/>“It’s the Wasteland. We all get hurt. But you… you always make it so dang difficult for yourself! Let me help you! Can’t you see your making it worse? You… you always take care of all the problems in the world, let the rest of help, goddang it! You don’t need to do this alone!”, Creeds shouted. It was loud enough for Piper to hear, and probably the rest of Diamond City too. <br/>“I’m sorry”, Song whispered again, his shoulders slumped. He rested his head on Creeds shoulder, as the feeling in his chest expanded, threatening to suffocate him. For the first time in many, many years, he could feel a wet sheen glaze his eyes. His voice nearly broke, as he said, once again:<br/>“I’m sorry.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>You may remember me promising I would be quicker with the chapter release this time. Apparently, I lied. And I am sorry for that. <br/>Having learnt my lesson, I will promise nothing but the fact that I will bring this fic to an end, and if it's the last thing I do. <br/>Thank you all for your comments and kudos, and whatnot's, each one brightened my day. So, if you want to keep me extra motivated, you know what to do! <br/>Until then, <br/>yours</p>
<p>Adavago.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you enjoyed this chapter, please consider the usual shabang under these notes! It would make my day just the largest bit brighter, knowing I could entertain you a while with my silly little story.<br/>And please, don't be too shy to comment! I swear, I won't bite. Every little comment makes me very, very happy!<br/>Until next time,<br/>Adavago.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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